A New Day Gone Bye
by TheBigBadWolf1
Summary: Lee Everett could never be prepared for what tomorrow had in store for him. When a strange infection turns people into cannibalistic monsters, Lee wakes up in the hospital from a coma after he gets stabbed by a mugger. He finds another patient, Rick Grimes, and the two discover that the world has forever been changed for the worse...
1. Days Gone Bye

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone By**

**Chapter 1 – Days Gone Bye**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the TV Show, the comic books or the game of The Walking Dead. **

** Hello guys, I am back with a brand new fanfic. I'm gonna explain it real quick, it's a mix of the two universes – the one of the game, comics, novels, and the one from the TV Show all in one. Enjoy!**

* * *

Lee Everett's past was now nothing but days gone bye, because he was living the day that would end his life.

The pain perforated into his stomach and was pumped throughout his midsection like the blood coursing in his veins. Aside from the agony, he felt the cold concrete pressed hard against his body. The honks and roars of bustling vehicles on the street tuned out of frequency and he listened to his heart pounding on his chest, along with his dragged breaths that he struggled to draw in. A shadow rushed by him, thumping on the ground. The mugger seemed like a towering giant, quaking the ground with each footstep as he fled from his victim, one hand clutching a bloodied knife and the other one holding the wallet he took from the hurt teacher.

The blood was pooling beneath Lee, cold chills going up and down his spine to even out the warmth of the oozing blood. Lee tightened his hand into a fist, as if it would help him hold onto his life. He couldn't die, he didn't want to. He had not outlived his purpose in this world, there was still more to tell in his story. But the darkness of the alleyway evolved into a penumbra as his eyelids fluttered closed, a botch of stars sparkling in the obscure background.

He drifted away, and there was nothing but darkness.

* * *

The darkness faded away.

Through his shuttered eyelids, a sickeningly clean, pale light was cast onto him. His eyes cracked open like an old, rusty chest that hadn't been opened in a while. The light scorched his pupils and he blinked repeatedly, as his vision grew accustomed to it. His ears were clogged and he only heard abstract mumbles and screeches coming from somewhere distant, along with a periodic beeping. Was he dead? Was he in his maker's realm? No. That white light had nothing angelic about it. He was in a hospital. He flicked his eyes through the room, but he was seeing double and his retina blurred any images. Perhaps this was just a dream induced into his mind seconds before death. His consciousness slipped from his grasp and his whole body was benumbed, as if his brain was disconnected from its shell. He had no control over himself and his mind was a jungle of thoughts running wildly and randomly, reaching no conclusion at all.

He shut and opened his eyes, struggling to keep them open, drifting on and off.

Echoes of roaring machine guns and high-pitched screams drilled his ears. Lee spanned his eyes, his vision becoming clearer, but he was still light-headed and couldn't move, a soreness ailing his torso. IV tubes pierced his skin. What the hell was going on? He opened his lips, but the words got stuck on his throat. He put all of his efforts into saying a single word, shoving the words out of his system with the little strength he had.

"N—Nur…nur…se…?"

He drooped his head to the side, which fell on the pillow. A vase with colorful flowers decorated his bedside table. There was a card. _You weren't awake. I hope you get better. Deborah._

A get-better gift? Now that was a surprise, after how shaky his relationship with his wife had become. She worried about work. He wanted a family. And ever since their conflicting ideals showed, a breach grew between them.

Someone burst through the door. Lee darted his eyes towards the individual. He was a burly man, a star badge pinned to his beige shirt and a sheriff hat on his head. The man with black hair shut the door as quickly as he could, but in a split second, Lee saw muzzle flashes and blood splatters outside. The sheriff turned to Lee, marching towards him.

"Holy shit! Look, man, my name's Shane Walsh, and there's no time. You seen a man named Rick? Dark hair, blue eyes, a sheriff like me?!"

Lee shook his head with a rusted neck, his eyelids wide open.

"Alright. Listen, it's hell out there, and I gotta go. Take this." Shane fished into a holster underneath the edge of his trousers, and put a small revolver on the bedside table. "I'll barricade the room so you'll be safe."

"W—what's—happ-?"

"Look, sorry, man, I gotta go!" Shane said, rubbing his head compulsively as he thundered out the door.

A tide of panic flushed through him. What could possibly going on? Gunfire? Screams? Blood? It was something chaotic, that was certain. Lee lifted his chest an inch, before the pain overwhelmed him and he dropped back on the mattress. Lucidity leaked from his body and his eyelids were weighed down. Once again, his consciousness vaporized and he entered the darkness.

* * *

Lee sprang onto a sitting position, forcing a large breath into his lungs.

The noise had ceased. There was nothing but an oppressing silence. The heart monitor was quiet. The IV bags chained to him were emptied. The hung clock on the wall was stilled. The flowers next to him were withered. He felt ill-at-ease, wondering where everyone had went and what had happened after the chaos he witnessed…how much time ago? It seemed like an eternity had passed ever since that gunfire and that sheriff came into his room. But at least he was better now. The pain in his body had eased and he was fully lucid.

The door creaked. Lee sprang his head towards it.

"Shane?"

There was a man. He walked with bent legs, while clutching his side. His curly, raven hair waved down his skull and his crystal eyes fixated him with a glow.

"Hey! Can you help me?" Lee said.

"Who…who are you?" He asked, limping towards Lee.

"My name's Lee Everett."

"I'm…I'm Rick Grimes." Rick stripped off the tubes plugged into his skin. "Did…did you mention someone named Shane?"

"Yeah. I think…a few days ago…this guy came by, called Shane Walsh." Lee said, causing Rick to widen his eyelids. "Know him?"

"He's…he's a friend of mine. Me and him, we were partners. Do you know where he went?"

"Not a clue. Sorry." Lee shook his head.

"Damn." Rick mumbled, wrapping his hands around his ribs.

Lee slid off the bed and onto his feet. His legs wobbled and he almost crumbled, had he not grasped onto the bedside table. His femurs, joints and kneecaps cracked loudly. Lee grunted, all that time in a hospital bed surely made him rusty like old steel. He headed towards a nearby chest of drawers, where his clothes were. A white t-shirt, blue shirt, brown trousers and his shoes.

"Do you have any idea of what's going on?" Lee asked. "Few days back, I heard gunfire. Blood. A lot of stuff went down."

"I don't know anything." Rick rubbed his hair. "I woke up from coma just a few minutes ago…and found out the hospital is empty. Saw a few corpses outside. And then I heard a noise coming from here."

"Perhaps we should go find out."

Rick waited for him at the doorpost. Lee stepped towards him, but halted. He was forgetting something. He turned back to the bedside table. He picked up the revolver and stuffed it in his belt. Something dangerous was going on, and it was better to be prepared. Even though he only had a faint idea on how to use a firearm.

"Think that might be necessary?" Rick asked.

"Maybe."

"Let me have it. I'll know how to use it."

Lee agreed and passed him the revolver, as they exited onto the hallway. Hospital beds were thrown around the room like the obstacles in a pinball game. Rotting corpses littered the floor, carved holes in their foreheads and torsos, and their blood smeared on the walls like graffiti. Lee's stomach knotted around itself, forcing him to cover his mouth and nose with his hand. The two dragged their feet across the building, avoiding looking at the massacre.

"How'd you end up in here?" Rick asked.

"I was mugged. And stabbed." Lee said.

"I was shot. Me and Shane, were in the middle of a crossfire. Was this guy, firin' at us. We tried to pull a move, but it went bad. And then I got hit."

"And-what the hell?"

Rick and Lee halted, their eyes stuck to what stood before them. There was a set of doors, the handles barred with a wooden plank, and a clear message sprayed on them.

DON'T OPEN DEAD INSIDE.

Lee quirked an eyebrow. What did it mean? Was the room beyond the door some kind of massive cemetery for dead bodies? The possibility chilled his spine.

"Should we go there?" Lee said.

"I…I don't know. But it might give a clue on what happened."

Lee removed the board and opened the doors. Like they foresaw, there was a multitude of cadavers, mixed in genders and age groups in what appeared to be a cafeteria. But they weren't dead. They were walking around. Or more precisely, shambling around, growling with milky eyes barren of iris or pupil. The two men froze with gaping jaws, as if they were staring at something from a science-fiction film. The nearest walking corpse snapped its gaze towards Rick, lunging at him.

"Shit!"

Ten cold, crispy fingers clawed Rick's shoulders. Rick grasped the corpse and propped it a few inches away from its face, as it battered its drooling jaws, its putrid breath invading Rick's nostrils and nauseating him. Lee struck the head of the man with the plank, making him stagger back. But then the pain howled in his midsection, and arched Lee in two as he caressed his injury with a wince.

Rick backed away from the corpse, aiming his revolver at him. The dozen more rotting corpses inside the canteen shuffled towards them.

"Fuck! What are these things?!" Lee said.

"Over here!"

Rick signaled Lee towards an emergency exit. Without thinking, the two burst through the door, and slammed it shut. The moaning became muffled by the door. The two men leaned on their knees, drawing heavy breaths.

"What the hell…was that?!" Lee said.

"Don't know! But we gotta keep movin'."

Rick and Lee paced down the stairs, their hearts returning to a regular rhythm. There was another door once they reached the bottom level, which would probably lead to the exterior. Lee pushed open the door, imagining the relief of fresh air into his lungs. But all he received was a warm, stench oxygen that he engulfed with his airways. The two men stared down at the apocalyptic landscape unfolding in front of them, paralyzed.

There was an ocean of dead bodies stretching for several meters, all of them cloaked with sheets that were stained with blood and dirt. A helicopter had violently crashed in the woods, taking down a few trees and burning most of the grass nearby. Military crates were omnipresent among the corpses.

"Jesus Christ…" Lee whispered.


	2. The Walkers

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 2 – The Walkers**

Rick and Lee limped slowly among all of the corpses, clouted with blankets kept shut by ropes. Patches of flies hovered above the bodies, biting little bits of the dead humans. The duo's jaws shook up and down, wanting to let out shocked gasps, but all that came to surface was their gag reflex, pushing their stomachs' content to their mouth. Sometimes, a head or a pair of feet would be popping out of those white sheets. The worst thing was their maroon rotten skin taint and the awful smell.

As they reached the entrance, they noticed that the hospital sign had fallen and was now just a mess of debris.

"What…wha…happened…here?" Lee stuttered, frightened by the death they had seen just behind their backs. Rick didn't reply, he just constrained his face in agonized expressions.

The two men just kept walking into an uncertain destination. The more they walked, the more destruction they saw. They kept spotting military bases and buildings with their walls burned to ashes. Besides the helicopter, there were other tons of military equipment. Crates, armor, vehicles, sandbag barricades, all of it littering the scenery around them.

Suddenly, they came across a red bicycle tossed on the ground. A few feet away from them, was the cadaver of a woman. Its legs were missing, leaving its intestines splattered on the grass. The zombie became aware of the human flesh and opened its eyes, before it began crawling towards.

Rick and Lee took a few steps back, almost tripping at the horrifying scene. Lee could swore he saw a tear leaking down Rick's eyeball, but he swoop his palm across his face to clean it. "There." Rick blurted out, pointing his finger at a house. The residential house was a simple place, located in the suburbed neighborhood they were in.

"What?" Lee asked, not knowing why Rick was pointing out that house.

"It's where I live." Rick disclosed before he strolled towards it in a quick pace, probably anxious to check on his family. Lee took a last glance at the bifurcated woman before he followed Rick.

Rick stormed into the house. "Lori?! Carl?!" He called out, examining the divisions and looking around in every direction. Since it was Rick's house, Lee stayed outside, keeping watch he supposed. He spun around and gazed at the suburbs. All of the houses had broken windows. There were deteriorated buildings and objects arranged messily in every corner. Like the rest of the world.

And then unexpectedly, he saw a person walking down the drive. He cracked a smile; they finally had found someone who could tell them what was going on. He couldn't distinguish anything about the individual.

But then his head was struck violently by a shovel, sending Lee to bite the dust. He stretched out on the ground, half unconscious. He managed to turn his head and spot his attacker, to which his surprise was just a kid. "Daddy! Daddy!" The African-American boy shouted out.

"Help…" Lee mumbled.

"Daddy, I got this son bitch, I'm a smack 'im dead!" The kid yelled, preparing to throw a final blow.

Lee looked down a road and saw another man appear; of African-American ethnicity too. He was probably the boy's father. The man walked up to the individual Lee had seen and fired into its skull, killing it instantly.

The man ran up to the boy. "He say somethin'?! Kinda heard him say something!" The man demanded at the boy.

"He said 'Help'." The boy quoted, panting.

"Son, you know they don't talk." The man soothed his son, before Lee faded out.

…

Lee woke up once again from a dazzled state of unconsciousness; which began to become an unnerving habitude. But this time he had a comfy pillow under his head and was lying on a bed. The boy that hit him was standing near the bed, with a baseball bat in hand. He wore a red shirt along with brown trousers. Besides him, Lee noticed Rick in the corner, chewing his thumbnail and Morgan was standing by a chest of drawers, drowning a rag in a bucket of water. All of the room's windows were clouted by curtains and the only light present inside came from candles.

"Got that bandage changed now." The man spoke. "Was pretty big. What was it? The wound."

"Stab." Lee rambled on, before he noted that his hands were tied by ropes. "Rick…"

"Hey, it's okay Lee." Rick soothed his new made friend. "This here's Morgan and that's Duane. They took us in."

Morgan approached Lee and lowered his face near Lee's. "Did you get bit?!" He inquired in a dead serious tone.

"Bit?" Lee repeated, not quite understanding the question.

"Bit. Chewed, maybe scratched." Morgan elaborated, moving his head as he enumerated possibilities. "Anythin' like that."

"Nah." Lee asserted in a firm voice. "Just stabbed."

Morgan set his hand on Lee's forehead, but Lee retracted it. "Let me." Morgan instructed, as he placed his fingers on his forehead. After a second, he looked at Duane. "He's cooling. Fever would've killed him by now."

Morgan pulled out a knife and cut off Lee's restraints. Lee slowly sat on the bed, letting his sore bones crack. "Come on out when you're able. C'mon." Morgan sputtered before he grabbed his son's shoulder lightly and they both exited the room.

"What the hell's happening, Rick?" Lee enquired, as Rick walked to the other side of the bed to help Lee up.

"Duane accidentally hit you in the head with a shovel." Rick explained, pulling Lee up by his armpits. "They took us in and want us to have dinner with them."

Rick and Lee walked around the house, who had each of its divisions lit with candles. "This house…it was Fred's and Cindy's Drake. Morgan told me it was empty when they found it."

"About your family…they weren't there, were they?" Lee said in a low tone, hoping that he wasn't touching a weak spot.

"No." Rick admitted, scratching his head. "But they're alive, I know it. All of our photo albums, family picture, gone." Rick elucidated, looking at Lee. "Only my wife could've taken those. They're out there, somewhere."

The duo arrived in the living room. Duane and Morgan were gathered around a table, serving four plates with forks, knives, and some kind of meat. They both raised their heads once they laid eyes on them. Lee walked up to a window and essayed to push away one of the sheets before Morgan stopped him.

"Don't do that." Morgan adverted, making Lee halt and pace toward the table. "They'll see the light." Morgan conceded as he kept filling plates with food. "There's more of them out there than usual. I never should've fired that gun today. Sound draws them, now they're all over the street. Stupid…using a gun…it all happened so fast…I didn't think."

Rick, Lee, Morgan and Duane all took a seat. "You shot that man today." Rick faced Morgan.

"Damn, that were no man." Duane remarked, causing Morgan to shoot him an eyeful.

"What the hell was that just out your mouth?" He reprehended, spitting those words to fast to be understood.

Duane sighed. "It wasn't a man." Duane said in a politer manner.

"You shot him. Out on the street, today." Rick insisted.

"For him, you need glasses. That was a walker." Morgan explained in a patient tone.

"Walker?" Lee repeated in a perplexed face.

Morgan let out a groan. "C'mon, eat, before you two fall down." Morgan jabbed his hand at the two plates decorated with food, ready to be eaten.

"Daddy. Blessing." Duane voiced, his father nodding in agreement. Morgan lent Duane his hand, to which he gripped, and then did the same with Lee. Lee hesitated a bit, he never had been the most religious type, but it was this family's will. The four men gave hands.

"Father, we thank thee for this food." Morgan began preaching, as the quartet closed their eyes, hearing Morgan's oration. "Thy blessing. We ask you to watch over us in these crazy days."

"Amen." The small crowd of people chanted. Then they grabbed their forks and began eating.

"Rick and Lee." The duo rose their heads at the mention of their names. "Do you even know what's goin' on?"

"We woke up in a hospital. Came home and that's all we know." Rick stated before replenishing his mouth with more meat.

Duane and Morgan exchanged a preoccupied look. Morgan rubbed his fingers through his chin. "But you know about the dead people, right?" Morgan inquired.

"Yeah. We saw a lot of that." Lee admitted. The food was the greatest but he had spent weeks for all he knew with an empty stomach, and it just felt great to have something in his organs. "Out on the loading dock, hauling trucks."

"No…not the ones they put down. The ones they didn't. The walkers." Morgan said. "Like the one I shot today, would've ripped into you. Try to eat you, take him some flesh at least." Lee and Rick looked at each other with puzzled and concerned facial expressions. "If this is the first you're hearing…I know how it must sound."

"They're out there now, on the street?" Rick asked.

"Yeah." Morgan instantly responded with a nod. "They're even more active after dark sometimes. Maybe it's the cool air or…hell, maybe it's just me firin' that gun today. But we'll be fine as long we stay quiet. Probably wonder off by morning. Media started switching off one by one. Before they stopped broadcasting, they told folks to gather by the bigger cities, said they were protectin' them. But I decided to take my chances here."

Rick and Lee remained silent. It was a lot to take in; discovering that the world had descended into catastrophe due to some kind of walking bodies that ate people. Morgan intertwined his fingers. "Well listen. One thing I do know: don't get bit. Saw your bandages and that's what we were afraid of. Bites…kill ya, fever burns you out. But then after a while…you come back."

"Seen it happen." Duane spoke up after minutes of silence. Morgan nudged his shoulder to comfort him with a happy smirk.

"Did you two know each other before all this went down?" Morgan casually asked.

"No. Met 'im at the hospital." Rick told him. Then the four people kept eating, enjoying their blessing.

**…**

Dinner had gone well, and a full stomach after, the small gang was resting in the living room. Morgan had all kinds of mattresses arranged around in the room. He sat in one of them with Duane half-sleeping next to him. Rick and Lee were lying in different cots themselves.

"Dad…did you ask 'im?" Duane quizzed, his voice muffled by a pillow.

Morgan let out a low chuckle. "Me and my boy…got a bet goin' on. Your gunshot wound…he thinks you're a bank robber."

Both Lee and Rick giggled a bit too. "Yeah. That's me." Rick jokingly assented. "Deadly as Dillinger. Kapow. Sheriff's deputy."

"Aha." Morgan agreed, before a deafening sound of a car alarm going off came from outside. Duane almost jumped out of his bed before Morgan smoothed him down. "It's okay, it's fine, daddy's here. One of them must've bumped into a car."

"Are you sure?" Lee admonished, as the three adults began standing up.

"Yeah, happened once before. Get the light, Duane." Morgan commanded. His son reached for the lamp and turned it off. Morgan carefully pushed away one of the sheets and the three adults peeked. "It's the blue one, same as last time. I think we're okay."

Through the crack, they could see a blue vehicle blinking its lights like a rave party. Duane approached the three men and gaped outside too. "That noise. Will it bring more of them?" Lee questioned Morgan.

Suddenly, Duane spotted a zombie woman, which seemed to upset him. "She's here." The boy muttered.

"Stay away from the windows." Morgan ordered. His son sprinted towards the bed and leaped onto it, loudly sobbing. Morgan sat next to him to calm him down. His crying was gonna attract walkers. "Shh, shh, it's okay. Be quiet."

Rick and Lee backed away from the window, carefully covering it with the curtain once again. Then they both sat near Morgan. Duane's face was buried in his lap.

"She, uh…died on that room, on that bed." Morgan explained with sadness, whilst shaking his head. "Nothin' I can do 'bout it here. That fever, man! Her skin gave off heat like a furnace. Should've put her down, should've put her down, I know, but…! Y'know what?" Morgan continued, wiping a tear. "I just didn't have it in me. She's the mother of my child."

Lee gulped after hearing the man's backstory. He twitched his head toward the door, and saw the door handle twisting around. Although the door was shut tight by nailed planks and a lock. So Duane's reanimated mother wasn't getting inside.

**A/N: Sorry that there weren't that many changes in this chapter, but it was necessary so Lee and Rick could learn about the virus. A lot of things are gonna change in the next chapters though, and thanks for all the support you've been giving me, you guys are awesome!**


	3. Lock N' Load

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 3 – Lock N' Load**

Despite all of the walkers outside the house the previous night, the gang had managed to get some sleep. The following morning, Rick had told the group that he still had the keys to the local precinct, where they would manage to get guns and a vehicle. Everybody agreed on the plan, and Morgan had driven the group to their destination in his car.

Rick fished the key out of his pocket and began twisting on the lock, whilst Lee, Morgan and Duane were gathered behind him. "I hope you, uh, don't mind my boy and I takin' residence in your neighbors'." Morgan said. "You bein' a cop an' all."

"I ain't gonna arrest you if that's what you mean." Rick asserted as he looked at Morgan. "All of the others seemed looted, you seem to be fixin' up the place. The Drake will probably thank you when they get back."

Rick opened the door. Since the building was dipped in darkness inside, they took some flashlights out of their pockets and beamed their light inside. They spotted file cabinets and desks, crammed with dossiers and papers sloppily arranged. And of course, there was a coffee machine and an empty donut box. "It's not like we're…stealing the place." Morgan affirmed as they proceeded through the twilight. "Your neighborhood just seemed safer and we're not hurtin' anybody."

"You don't have to justify anythin' to me, Morgan." Rick ratified, as he led the group into a washroom, which was illuminated by a few windows. To spare the batteries, they switched off the devices.

The washroom was like any other. On one side there was a row of metallic lockers, in the middle a row of benches and on the opposite side a row of showers. "I could use a shower right now." Lee commented.

"Speakin' of which…" Rick mumbled as he walked towards the shower. He turned the handle and everybody was surprised like they had just seen a magic trick when water began streaming down.

"Gas and light have been down for maybe a month." Morgan guaranteed in amazement as he saw the flow of the water.

"Station's got its own propane system." Rick explained. He placed a hand on the water which adhered to his palm, before he grinned from ear to ear and gazed at the group. "Pilot's still on."

…

Now that Rick had announced that there was hot water, the four men were naked, each one under a shower. They were separated by cubicles though, to preserve their privacy, rejoicing with water and toiletries.

"Oh my Lord!" Morgan sputtered in happiness with his skull foaming of shampoo. Rick, who was shaving, couldn't avoid letting out a smirk.

"Ho-t wat-ter!" Duane stuttered in celebration.

"Man that feels good, right?" Lee inquired out loud, passing his hand through his hair.

"Bring it around, bring it around, bring it around, oh yeah!" Duane sang as he danced and bathed himself. "Wha-what did you say, uh…"

…

Four baths later, the group couldn't have their spirits as high as they were now. They had found towels and fresh clothes to cover their bodies and things were going relatively well.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to go get something." Rick articulated. The group nodded in agreement before he waltzed out of there.

"Duane, go get dressed in that room over there." Morgan jabbed his finger at an adjoining room, as he offered his son clothes. Duane nodded and grabbed the garments, before he vanished into the other room.

Lee moved his hand through the bandage on his stomach. It hurt him every goddamned second of the day. "How'd you get stabbed?" Morgan asked. The two men were sitting on the benches.

"I work up at UGA. Got mugged on my way back home. And then it went bad." Lee articulated with honesty.

"Must be tough to face. Wake up in the hospital, only to find that those walkers lurk around every corner." Morgan estimated. "Got family?"

"My wife, Deborah." Lee stated with sadness. "We lived up near Atlanta, so that's where I'm headin'. She'll probably be there."

"That's where we were headin'' too." Morgan told him with his tremble voice, like he always did when he referred to his wife. "Things got crazy. Man, you won't believe. The panic. Streets won't fit to be on, and then we'll…" Morgan took a brief pause. He gaped to his side to verify that Duane wasn't listening before he glanced at Lee again. "My wife…couldn't travel. No, not with our herds, so we had to find a place to lay low." Lee heard the man with attention. "And then after she died…" He glared to his side again. "We just hunkered down. I guess we just froze in place."

"Plan to move on?" Lee asked. After all if he and Duane came with them, they'd be safer.

"Haven't worked up to it yet." Morgan smirked as he dressed a blue t-shirt.

The next minute, Rick stormed into the room with a confident look. He was donning proudly a sheriff's hat, a brown t-shirt with the star badge on it, brown pants and shoes. Around his waist was a holster with a Colt Python; probably his signature weapon; along with other pockets, two walkie-talkies and a nightstick.

"That getup certainly suits you." Lee joked with a chuckle, just as Duane came in the room dressed with his red shirt and jeans.

"Figured since they got them safe-zones up in Atlanta, it'd be easier to get around as a cop." Rick elucidated. "C'mon, follow me."

Lee rose from the seating and Morgan did too, with Duane on his tail. They followed Rick through the gloomy foundations; that was now brighter; until they stopped in front of a large metal cage, replenished with guns. Revolvers, shotguns, handguns, it had it all.

Rick unlocked the padlock with his key and they entered the cage, staring at all of the weaponry. Morgan picked up a shotgun and examined it. "Shells are in the cabinet below the rack." Rick informed, as Duane tip-toed to see past the grown-ups.

"Dad, can I learn how to shoot?" Duane quizzed, as Morgan folded his sleeves. "I'm old enough."

"Hell yes you're gonna learn." Morgan immediately agreed. "We gotta do it carefully, teach you to respect the weapon."

"He's right, it's not a toy." Rick wisely adverted, jabbing his finger on Duane's chest. "You pull the trigger, you gotta mean it. Always remember that, Duane."

"Yes sir." Duane consented with a nod.

Lee looked around at all the guns, feeling a bit lost. He picked up the first handgun he saw and passed it from hand to hand.

"That's a Glock 22." Rick elucidated, as he investigated a sniper rifle. "Y'know how to shoot of those things, Lee?"

"Actually, no." Lee admitted, as he kept trying out different ways to hold it. "Seen it in movies, but never fired."

"You just pull the slide." Rick instructed, pointing at the different parts of the weapon. "Press that button to check the clip. Put the safety on to make sure you don't hit yourself in the leg."

Lee nodded before Rick butted his sniper rifle against his shoulder and glanced down the scope. Lee clicked the button like he was told to and a magazine came popping out of the handle. It looked to be full, so Lee pushed it back in. Then he plucked the slide on top and heard a metallic sound; probably the bullet entering the chamber. He pushed the safety on and stored the gun on his belt.

Rick offered his rifle to Morgan. "Take that one. Nothin' fancy, scope's accurate." He explained as he resumed his task of fiddling with the guns.

Duane was laying in the corner, filling a duffel bag with all kinds of ammunition box. Lee kept examining the variety of weapons, in order to get acquainted with them.

…

Now that they had about three duffel bags full of guns, they were well-equipped and ready to fight off any horde. Rick led the gang outside, and they all became blind from the daylight because they had grown costumed to the bleakness inside.

"Conserve your ammo." Rick advised, as they stepped out into a parking lot. "Goes faster than you think. Especially in target practice."

They walked among the tall, brick walls until they came across two police cars. Its blue and white paint job was littered with dust from its abandonment, but the words sheriff on the side were clear and there were the mighty blue and red lights on top of the ceiling.

"Duane, take this to car." Morgan commanded, passing his son a bag of guns. He nodded and paced towards the other vehicle which they were taking.

"Are you sure you won't come along?" Lee inquired, to certify that he was sure of his decision. "There's no going back after this."

Morgan removed a hat he was donning from his head and scrubbed his hand over his bald head. "A few more days…Duane will know how to shoot and I won't be so rusty."

Rick bent inside the car as Morgan took a peek at his son, who was hauling weaponry into their vehicle. "You got one better." Rick said as he gave Morgan a walkie-talkie. "I'll turn my on a few minutes every day at dawn. You get up there, that's how you find me."

"You think they're there?" Morgan asked as he walked around the car.

"Can't afford not to." Rick professed. "Not anymore."

"Listen, just one more thing." Morgan pointed out, as Duane finished up loading the guns on their car and Lee tossed another shipment of weaponry on the back seat of the police vehicle. "They might not seem like much at the time. But in a group all round up and hungry? Man you watch your ass."

"You too." Rick wished him good luck.

Morgan shook Rick's hand, and then followed to shake Lee's. "You're a good man, Rick. I hope both of you find what you're lookin' for."

Lee shook little Duane's hand. "Good luck, Duane. Keep an eye out for your old man." He said in a friendly tone, receiving a nod in exchange.

Suddenly, they heard the metal fence surrounding them being raddled. They turned around and saw a walker, clawing against them. He also wore police garments and his facial features were hidden by the decay. His radio was hanging from his shoulder.

"Leon Bassett. Didn't think much of him. Careless and dumb, but…" Rick stated, as he gazed at the corpse. "Can't leave him like this."

"Won't they hear the shot?" Lee recalled what Morgan had said about attracting walkers with noise.

"We won't be here when they get here." Rick affirmed, as he unlocked his holster.

"C'mon Duane." Morgan told his son as both of them rushed over to their car. Lee did the same, and he sat in the passenger seat of their car.

He turned his head and saw Rick pulling out his Colt Python and aiming it at Leon's head. He didn't want to see the man's brains being blown out, but he had to grow onto seeing those kind of things by then.

The bullet echoed for miles as it went through Leon's head. His brains and blood were splattered on the air, and Lee could hear the fence ringing as his cold fingers scrolled down through it.

Rick ran back to the driver's seat and switched on the ignition. Before long, the two duo of men were speeding down the road, each one in their different direction.

"So Atlanta's our next stop?" Lee asked as he looked down the desolated road.

"Yes, it is Lee. We're gonna find our families." Rick asserted as he adjusted the rearview. And they kept on driving.

**A/N: And thus concludes this chapter, fellow readers. Hope you have enjoyed it, and check back frequently for updates. The next chapters will have more elements from the game, so don't worry! See ya!**

** "****This ain't a democracy anymore!" – Rick Grimes.**


	4. Riding Dirty

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 4 – Riding Dirty**

Rick and Lee were accelerating down the road. Lee was leaning against the window, with his flat cheek stamped against his enclosed fist, almost falling asleep. Rick was taking the wheel, never looking away from the long concrete path ahead of them, besieged by endless, green trees. The windshield had some grime dirtying it and the rearview had a pair of cracks. The sky had turned cloudier but the temperatures were still warm.

Inside the brownish car, Rick glanced at the police radio and had an idea. He gripped it with his right hand, his attention always directed to the road, and pressed the button. He approached the device to his mouth. "This here is Officer Rick Grimes." Lee jumped on his seat, surprised by his voice.

"What're you doing?" Lee inquired, staring at Rick, followed by a long yawn as he was awakened.

"I'm seeing if there's somebody out there." Rick informed, taking his thumb off the button.

"Really think there's someone listening?" Lee demanded his opinion, reclining on his seat comfortably.

"Dunno. But we can at least find some directions on where to go." Rick reassured, as he smashed the button again with his finger. Lee shrugged it off and went back to his mid-napping. "This is Rick Grimes from the Sheriff's Deputy, anybody copy?" A sizzle was heard as he removed his finger from the pressure plate. Silence. "We'll be approaching on Highway 85, Anybody hear my voice? Anybody hear me, please respond."

* * *

Kenny kept gawking at his pickup's engine, trying to figure out what was wrong with it. Kenny was a dude who wore a red baseball cap, bore the legacy of the mullet and a furry mustache across his face. He tightened his grip around his monkey wrench in his fists. He had been at it for an hour, but he still couldn't get the damn engine to start.

"Fuckin' hell." Kenny muttered, passing his hand drenched in oil through his hat, staining it a little. "Why won't you fuckin' work?"

"Honey, take a break, don't start to stress out." His wife Katjaa soothed him, by putting a hand on his shoulder. Katjaa was a woman with short, blond hair and she had bright, blue eyes. She wore brown pants and a t-shirt with flowers. "We don't need this fixed right away."

"I know, I know." Kenny mumbled as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his arm. He tossed the wrench on the opened toolbox near his feet. He and his wife shared a quick kiss. "Go on and check on Duck."

Kenny swabbed his dirty hands with a rag. He turned around and saw his wife sitting next to their son Duck, who was distracting himself by drawing some weird figures with crayons. He gazed at their entire camp; in the middle being the main attraction. Dale's RV. Dale was the group's old story-teller, wearing a fisher hat and owl glasses he always stood on top of the RV with a sniper rifle and some binoculars, constantly surveying the area for walkers.

Suddenly, they began hearing some fizzles emitting from the radio that stood on a hollow-out tree stump. Everybody began turning their heads in amazement, before they heard a voice. "_An-ny-b-body res-spon-ds-_"

Amy immediately leaped out of the chair she was sitting in and sprinted towards the device. She dived onto her knees and gripped the radio, pressing the button to talk.

"Hello? Who is this?" The blonde girl spoke into the radio. Dale made his rifle clung onto his back and climbed down the RV, dashing towards the radio as fast as his feeble legs could take him.

"_C-can you h-ear m-me…_"

"You're coming through, over." Amy certified, stringing a straw of hair behind her ear. Kenny, seeing what was happening, ran towards the radio. In a few seconds, half the group had gathered. Dale, Kenny, Lilly and Larry. Larry was as old as Dale, the difference was that Larry had the worst temper available. And Lilly was his daughter, who fortunately seemed the only person who could calm him down. Mark and Doug emerged too. The latter was the geek of the group, knowing all kinds of knowledge about technology. Heck, he was the reason they had a functional radio. And finally, Mark used to work at a military base like Lilly, so he was useful when it came to guns and vehicles.

"_Any-one w-who can h-ear-r me, br-roadc-castin-g on emerg-g-ency c-hanne-l._" The voice came in stutters, as the group exchanged looks and stood like morons in amazement.

"We're just outside the city, hello can you hear me?" Amy apprised, before the searing sound vanished. "Dammit. He couldn't hear me, I couldn't warn him."

"Let me take a look at that." Doug intervened. He was mostly a quiet guy, but when it came to tech he was highly confident. He lowered his body and tinkered around with some of the buttons and knobs, but there was no result. "Fiddlesticks, I think we lost him for good." Doug stated whilst scratching his head and glaring at the group.

Lori, who had been taking care of laundry with her son Carl, was intrigued by the camp's talk so she stepped in.

"Son, you know best how to work with this thing." Dale told Shane, who approached the radio and kneeled by it.

"Hello, hello, the person who broadcasts still on the air?" Shane let go of the button, but there was only static. "This is Officer Shane Walsh, broadcasting to a person unknown, please respond." Silence. After a few seconds, it was deemed useless so Shane set the radio back on its place. "He's gone."

"Who the hell was that?" Kenny inquired with urge.

"We don't know. The guy just came outta nowhere." Amy declared as she got up and placed her hands on her hips.

"There are others, we aren't the only ones." Lori affirmed. "I've been saying for a week, we oughta put signs on up on 85 to warn people away from the city." Lori said with some frustration.

"And get our own people killed? We should stay right here where it's safe, we can't afford to go out there!" Larry shouted in retort, with an angry expression.

"Larry, calm down, please." Mark pleaded him.

"Yeah, dad. Stay calm. We don't have many more pills left." Lilly told him. Her simple pronunciation of those words instantly brought a more relaxed face to him.

"Lori's right. Folks don't know what they're getting into." Amy consented, glaring at the group.

"Hate to say it, but I agree with ol' Larry." Shane agreed as he got up and stuck his sheriff hat back on his head. "We don't have time."

"I think we need to make time." Lori contravened with an incredulous tone.

"Yeah, that uh…" Shane rambled as he rubbed his fingers through his five o'clock shadow. "That's somethin' we can't afford. We are survivin', day by day."

"And how do you propose to send?" Dale demanded over to Lori, opening his arms in disbelief.

"I'll go. Gimme a vehicle." Lori hastily said.

"Lori, that's not a good idea. You know that no one goes alone anywhere." Mark disapproved as he played with his hair.

Lori, seeing so many people were against her, let out a sigh before she walked away from everybody's sight. Eventually, the group began dispersing in different directions, off to do their activities. Carl, the small ten year old tried to follow his mom, but Shane stopped him. "Hey, hey, hey, c'mon buddy, take a sit. You're alright, go on, you're alright." Shane told him, as he was greeted with Carl's nod, as he spun around and went somewhere else, before Shane departed to follow Lori.

* * *

Lee was roused from his sleep when the car's rocking around was coming to a halt. Lee freed his eyes from the sheets blanketing his eyes and yawned. Once he felt more awake, he saw the car fully stop in front of a short wooden fence, and beyond laid a hill with a country house built on top.

"Why're we stopping?" Lee asked whilst he turned his head. Meanwhile, Rick switched off the ignition and ripped out the keys from the hole.

"Runnin' on fumes. We have to find gas or another vehicle. That house's our best bet." Rick elucidated in a simple way, pointing at the house in the hills. Lee replied to him with a nod and a positive noise.

Lee stretched out before he picked up the Glock from the dash. He still wasn't too sure if he was gonna be able to use it properly, but he was gonna try his best. Rick pulled down the sun visor and removed a photo that was attached to it between tons of shop receipts. Lee took a glance at the picture and saw Rick standing in the middle, donning a boring suit and a wide smile, with a woman and a small boy by his side; all of them with joyous expressions.

After Rick had inserted the item in his pocket, Lee drew his arm in a weird way toward the back seating and grabbed the duffel bag, gradually pulling it to his lap. The two men exited the car, shutting their doors with a loud noise. Rick dashed toward the back of the car before he opened the truck, and he picked up some siphoning gear.

"Let's go." Rick uttered, as the duo, side by side, began marching through the road.

They were walking through the concrete road, two eyes and face forward. It was a creepy feeling that reached Lee's brain, but it was hard to believe that the world was so quiet and dead now. The green trees and tall grass danced as the wind balanced them, and not a single sound was heard. Unlike things used to be in the quotidian life, with cars, pollution, work, stress…it was actually peaceful.

Rick vaulted over the fence skillfully, examining his surroundings to prevent being ambushed by walkers. Lee essayed to bounce over the obstacle, but almost hit the deck when the weight of the guns tugging him down. He almost fell on his knees as the pain in his stomach insisted, but he stayed firm. After a few pants, he was good to go, and the two men began hiking up the hill.

The house wasn't something special. It was the usual one-story household, having a small porch up front and a tiny ceiling, with a chimney sprouting out of it. The outside walls were painted in a bleak white, and there didn't seem to be signs of human activity.

"Hello? Anybody?" Lee inquired out loud, but got no response. "Mind if we borrow some gas?"

"I don't think there's anyone around these parts." Rick commented as they climbed up the front porch. The two windowsills were decorated with herbs and there was a table with a few chairs by it; where the owners probably spent time drinking lemonade while enjoying the view.

Rick twisted the doorknob, and surprisingly it opened. They both paced inside, and noticed how inside it looked like a tornado ran through. The kitchen's cabinets had all been uncovered and looted, some furniture was torn upside down and some of the family pictures' frames were broken. But the first thing they noticed was the smell.

"Ah, Jesus." Lee spat as he pressured his palm against his nose.

"Crap." Rick spattered as he imitated Lee, turning his face away for a brief second before he stared back again towards the inside of the house.

They slowly walked around in the hallway for a bit, until they turned in the living room. Big mistake. They came across a dead body sitting on the couch, with a shotgun in his hands. He had formerly been a farmer; it was visible due to the overalls; and half his skull was splattered in the walls. Another body laid on the ground; this one being of a woman; her face was also dissolved into the floor in a mix of blood and bone. An entire ocean of flies was hovering above the cadavers. Plus, they were terrified when they spotted the message 'God Forgive Us' written with blood on the wall.

They almost ran out of the house, in order to avoid that image of slaughter. Once on the exterior, Lee was forced to bend and he barfed the little he had on his stomach on the porch. He gripped onto the handrail so he wouldn't collapse, and when he spewed everything he stood straight, wiping his mouth and panting heavily. He gazed down and saw a puddle of yellowish, disgusting matter.

"It's…it's okay…" Rick said as he patted Lee on the back. "Let's just check out back."

"Yeah…let's go." Lee assented.

They climbed down the stairs and began walking around the house. It wasn't too large, so it wouldn't take them too much time. "You sure you okay?" Rick quizzed.

"I'm fine, don't worry." Lee asserted with a nod.

When they had stepped into the backyard of the house, Lee's dizziness and nausea had dissipated. They saw a wine-colored station wagon parked near the back door, and a reddish barn a bit further away. Beyond that, it was endless meadows.

"Looks like it's our lucky day." Rick stated as he sprinted towards the car. He clicked the handle of the driver's side and installed himself in the driver's seat, arching below the steering wheel.

"Hey, Rick. I'm gonna take a look at that barn." Lee affirmed, keeping his eyes on the building.

"Okay, but careful with the walkers." Rick grunted as he played around with some wires that were connected to the engine.

Lee walked in a fast pace towards the barn. Eventually, he noted that the red color came from the rust accumulated in the metal infrastructure holding the wooden walls up. He reached his palm towards the two handles and pulled the doors in his direction, almost hacking the doors of their hinges.

The inside of the barn was actually kept clean. The hay was stacked in small parallelepipeds, and a few other useful tools were organized in the corner; such as a sickle, a shovel and a pitchfork. But he was surprised with what he spotted in the stables. Two horses, both of them of brownish and white fur, stared at the human with empty eyes and didn't show a care for what was happening in the world.

"Well I'll be damned." Lee muttered, as he began strolling towards the two animals. He tried not to do any sudden moves so he wouldn't upset the creatures. He distinguished a hatchet with its blade dug inside a wooden table. "I guess I'll take this." He said into the air as he unburied the hatchet, and then attached it to his belt. "Hi there, girls. They forgot about you in here?" Lee asked one of the animals as he petted its muzzle. It retracted its head for a while, but then in a single second he seemed to gain complete trust in him. "I sure could use your help. I'm trying to get to Atlanta to find my wife Deborah. I also have a friend Rick. He's a cool guy, sheriff's deputy, he's heading there too. Searching his wife Lori and his son Carl."

"Goddamn station wagon is a bust." Rick hissed as he appeared out of nowhere into the barn. He frowned his eyebrows in amazement and dropped his jaw, seeing the treasure they had found. "Well, shit…feel like going for a ride?"

"You know how to horse-ride?" Lee interrogated as he spun around. "Spent a lotta days patrollin' the streets on horseback?"

"I did, in my rookie days." Rick explained, as he picked up a saddle that was butting against the wall. "And now these girls are gonna take us to Atlanta."

**A/N: So Rick and Lee have found a means of transport to get to Atlanta, whilst the Motel and Atlanta groups are trying to survive out on the wilderness. What will happen next? Thanks for reading the chapter, hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you next time!**


	5. The City Has Fallen

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 5 – The City Has Fallen**

Rick opened the small gate on the stables. Lee stepped aside and saw as Rick slowly backed away towards the door, luring the two horses out of their pen. At first they were confused, but after a while they were on track and they were following Rick obediently, as he waved his fingers and whistle lowly. Lee stood there, staring at Rick's maneuvers like he was viewing a sports match from the sidelines with his arms folded.

"So, uh…how do you ride this thing?" Lee asked. Rick had already strapped a saddle onto one of the horses, as he caressed the horse's face.

"It's easy. Grab one of them saddles, string it up and jump on." Rick elaborated, making it seem simple.

Lee walked inside the barn again and picked up another saddle, hidden among the cubes of hay. He turned around and marched back to his horse, which seemed oblivious to everything happening around him. He tiptoed to try to be as tall as the horse and then tossed the saddle over his back. The animal didn't complain, and better didn't smash Lee's ribs in with its massive hoofs.

Rick gripped the creature's back and then leaped in the air majestically, passing a leg over with ease. "C'mon, your turn. Just don't be nervous." Rick advised, with the cord between his hands already. He was ready to ride.

Lee gulped, before he wrapped his fingers on the beast's spine. He jumped and tried to bend over, but the only result was him falling over on the other side. He screeched as his body clashed against the grass. The horse lifted its paws for a few seconds and produced a sound like the one of a shudder. "Hey! You okay?" Rick inquired with a chuckle.

"Yeah…just need to get the hang of it." Lee admitted as he got up, being dirty with some dirt that he swooped away. He spun around and breathed heavily, as he did the same drill. He dived in the air and passed a leg over it, now successfully installing himself in the saddle.

"All ready?" Rick said, waving the ropes a little.

Lee messed around with the cords attached to the horses' muzzles. "How do you get it to gallop?"

"Like this. Yagh!" Rick screamed as he pulled the ropes high up and tapped the animal's stomach with his feet. The horse howled and tilted backwards, before he began speeding down the hill at a tremendous hill. The difference was that Rick wasn't scared.

"Jesus Christ. Yagh…" Lee said without enthusiasm, as he hit the horse's stomach for it to move. But it remained stoical. "YAGH!" He yelled now louder and pretty much kicked the sides of the animal. It inclined backwards that Lee thought he was going to fall, but then the horse stood in his normal posture and began sprinting down the hill. Lee was having some trouble keeping up with its speed, but he latched onto the ropes and didn't dare to let go. The wind was striking his face like a cooling breeze and the trees around him were nothing but blurs.

But then he saw the wooden fence between them and the road. "Oh shit, stop! Horsey, stop!" He hollered, but the animal invested.

Lee's only instinct was to close his eyes and constrain his muscles. But eventually he felt the horse flying in the air. He cracked one eye open and saw that the horse had leaped over the obstacle, and was now galloping at a normal speed.

Rick appeared by his side, as the duo of men rode down the road in sync. Lee was panting and drops of sweat were sliding down his face. "Enjoy your first ride?" Rick smirked.

"No. Let's just get to Atlanta." He groaned impatiently. That had been way too much adrenaline for him to handle.

* * *

Lee had now gotten the hang of horse-riding, at least for the time being in which all they had to do was walk in a straight line towards Atlanta. Rick was beside him, often whipping his hand through his sheriff hat and with a small smile up his face. One thing Lee knew for sure; it was the last damned time he was sitting on horseback. They had already spanned miles for all they knew, and the outlines of Atlanta's skyscrapers were visible in the horizon. And the closer they got to the city, the bigger was their enthusiasm.

"There it is. Atlanta" Rick said as their horses stepped inside an area of the highway that was littered with cars everywhere. All of them with windows broken, doors flung open and some with flat tires or even missing parts. Posters and leaflets flew in the window.

"Geez…" Lee murmured, looking over his shoulder the debris laying on the road. Thankfully, there were opening large enough to fit the animals.

Lee gazed at the streets that approached them. It felt weird seeing some of those places he knew, bars, hotels, restaurants…once so lively now so dead and bleak.

When they had entered the first neighborhood of Atlanta, Lee started noticing some walkers. Not a lot, maybe five, some lingering in the alleys, other staring at the ground until they noticed the human presence.

"Rick, walkers." Lee alerted in a whisper.

"Don't worry. They won't be able to catch up to us." Rick asserted, looking around to make sure there weren't anymore zombies.

But when the horses stepped into the next street, they were surprised by a gigantic herd of walkers. All of them had rotten flesh, milky eyes and roamed around with dragged and disastrous pacing. Their heads twitched with haste as they noticed the fresh meal brought to them.

"Oh shit, what do we do?" Lee demanded, as he turned his head around and saw that more zombies were marching towards them from behind.

"We're cornered!" Rick stated, as the horse nervously stood still, unsure on what to do. "Shit, shit, shit , shit!"

Lee's horse suddenly raised his frontal paws in the air, erecting in only his two remaining legs. Lee did his best to cling onto something, scratching around the animal's neck, but he began sliding down until gravity pulled him down. He began falling towards the ground, and the sudden and unexpected fall caused him to fall on his back, his nape hitting the floor.

His surroundings became stains of color and his hearing felt suppressed; his bones yelping in pain. He could listen to the repetitive groans emitting from the mouths of the dead and their dawdling shuffle. "Lee!" He heard Rick shout. He could hear several gun shots, along with the horse yelling and the moaning intensified. Lee knew one thing for sure; he wasn't gonna get eaten today.

He blinked multiple times before the world became lucid to him once more. He looked to his side and noted a walker strolling towards him, battering its jaws at the sight of the delish laying on the floor. Its head was deprived of any hair and his eyes were as grey as Pluton. Lee used his elbow to elevate his torso a bit, and with his right hand reached for the hatchet. With hurry, he took out the weapon, and just as the walker leaped on top of Lee, he swung the hatchet in the air, sending a devastating blow to its cranium.

He then saw a silhouette approaching him. At first he thought it was a lurker, so he readied the weapon, but then recognized the sheriff hat and badge. Rick was lending his hand to Lee. "I ain't letting someone get eaten today." He reassured, as Lee gripped his hand and surged in the air. "Especially a good friend."

Lee nodded, as he holstered his hatchet and removed his Glock 22 tight in his hand. The zombies were now dangerously close, and they had to escape now. Lee instantly shifted his attention away when he saw the walkers devouring the two horses. There were intestines everywhere, especially within the undead's mouths, and they didn't mind the blood splattering on their face.

Rick soared his arm and shot the nearest walker, sending its brains all over the air as its body slumped on the ground. The zombies all had variety; some with short hair, Mohawks, long hair, suits, punk clothes, sneakers, bare feet, people like them. But now it was time for Lee to try target practice.

He heightened his hands, clutching onto the gun with the index finger hovering near the trigger. He took aim through the notch at the nearest zombie; a bald dude with a Californian shirt. Closing one eye, he had no mercy and fired a bullet. The recoil was strong that the weapon almost struck his face and his ears were deafened. However, once he focused on the walker again he saw that the bullet had gone through its neck, but somehow it was still alive.

"Into the alley!" Rick hollered, latching Lee's shirt and tugging him all the way into an alleyway.

Inside the small passage, there were no walkers. It was a dark location, containing only a few dumpsters and trash cans.

"What the…!" Lee screamed when he felt hands wrapping around him. He shook his body away and turned around; his gun ready to shoot.

"Whoa, whoa, not dead!" The man standing in front of Lee said with his arms in the air. Lee frowned his eyebrows and realized his mistake, as he lowered the gun. Rick halted in his tracks, seeing that it had been a person grabbing Lee.

The guy appeared to be of Asian-American ethnicity. He wore a cap and had sweaty black hair. He bore a t-shirt along with jeans, and a backpack dangled around his shoulders.

"Who are you?" Rick enquired as he approached the Asian dude. Acknowledging they were friendly, the guy set down his hands.

"I'm Glenn and I can get you out of here." He asserted as he looked around to verify that walkers hadn't followed them. "Follow me, and stop using those guns!"

Glenn began sprinting down the alley way with speed. Lee and Rick gazed at each other, wondering if they should follow him, but when they glanced behind them they spotted a wave of walkers bursting inside the alley. Going with Glenn was preferable…

Glenn stopped beside a ladder, which he leaped onto to and started climbing in a furious momentum. Rick let Lee go first, so the urban man followed Glenn right on his tail, the metal of the ladder echoing each time they laid a foot on it.

Lee jumped onto the roof, panting heavily while he leaned on his knees. Never had he seen such a large horde; and he came close to death that very day. That wasn't something he was gonna get by so quickly.

"Who the hell are you?" Glenn questioned, as Rick landed on the rooftop, sweating and essaying to control his breathing. Below that building they stood on, hundreds of walkers, releasing an unbearable stench were hoisting their claws in the air. They were too stupid to know that they weren't gonna manage to reach the humans.

"I'm Rick, and this is Lee." Rick presented the duo, gesturing at Lee who was recomposing himself.

"You guys brought the whole city on us with all that gunfire." Glenn observed, peaking over the edge at the horde. "We gotta hurry, come with me."

"Wait, where are we going?" Lee asked between breaths.

"We have a camp from outside Atlanta. But me along with some other guys are holing up in a pharmacy." Glenn informed. He raced until he reached the border of the edifice, and then he majestically jumped in the air, light as a feather, before he arrived at the other side, making gravel fly in the air as his feet made friction with the floor.

"No! No freaking way." Lee said out loud, drawing a cross in the air with the tip of his fingers.

"You guys are gonna have to!" Glenn voiced, making a shell with his hands around his mouth so he could heard all the way across. "All those buildings are filled with zombies, and there will be walkers waiting for us at the bottom of that one. There's no way out!"

"Goddamn it." Lee muttered, as he took a few steps back and prepared for the jump.

He released a breath as he began crushing the floor each second with his feet. He ran up to the edge before his body glided in the air. For a split second he spotted a blur of the undead mob scrubbing their nails against the buildings' walls, before he fell on his knees on the other side.

"See? Wasn't hard. Now you sheriff!" Glenn instructed, helping Lee getting up.

"I'm coming!" Rick adverted, as he walked backwards to get balance. He followed in Lee's footsteps as he dashed across the ground, and the air automatically exited his lungs when he flew in the atmosphere, not falling off by a few inches.

"Okay, now let's go you dumbasses!" Glenn commanded, before he walked up to a latch on the same building. He bowed down and opened it, as he stepped inside.


	6. Breaking The Bad

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 6 – Breaking The Bad**

** "****All war is a symptom of man's failure as a thinking animal." – Walter.**

**There you go, there's a totally random quote. Just a side note, the Andrea appearing in this will be the Andrea from the comics. Now I hope you enjoy the chapter! **

Rick and Lee had followed Glenn down the ladder that was posited inside the latch, and after some more physical exercise they arrived at an alleyway that led to Everett's Prescriptions. Lee was quite shocked, but felt fuzzy and uncomfortable inside. Because his parents would either be inside; or they would be worse.

Inside the passage, a handful of walkers were lurking around. The trio halted at the sight of them, but then Glenn pulled out a walkie-talkie. "We have a couple a' geeks in the alley!" He spoke in a rush to the radio, before he cut communication.

They stood there for a few seconds, regarding the walkers static as statues, before two people erupted out of the backdoor of Everett's Prescriptions. They both wore weird garments protecting all of their body, like they were samurais, before they began clubbing the two undead zombies with dragged movements; using aluminum bats. The walkers fell as soon they were beaten down, and even when they were down they kept jerking around, trying to escape.

Glenn did a finger motion, and Rick and Lee followed him as Glenn dashed toward the backdoor. They leaped between the two samurai dudes and into the pharmacy. "Go, let's go!" One of the masked guys said as they both retreated inside.

* * *

Rick, Lee and Glenn burst into the drug store, and Lee identified them as in being in his parents' office. There was a desk in the corner, with a remote and a TV that wasn't working strapped onto the ceiling. To his right, there was the door leading to the pharmacy; but if he remembered correctly his parents always kept it tight shut. But he was terrified when he spotted two mattresses in the opposite wall, splattered with blood.

The two samurais shut the door, before they removed their masks and revealing their appearance. One of them was a buff, African-American guy, with an impeccable shaved head and a thin moustache adorning his upper lip. The other seemed to be of Hispanic-American nationality. He too was a bit bulky on the muscles, and had curly hair along with some cropped stubble.

"Jesus, Glenn, what happened out there?" A woman with short, brown hair and wearing a purple bubble jacket with a white shirt underneath inquired with concern. "And mind presenting us your new friends?"

"Sorry, Carley, but these guys were in trouble back there." Glenn explained, still panting and sweating from their adventure back there, whilst the Hispanic man and the African-American man were stripping off their armor. "This here's Rick, a cop, and that's Lee."

"Hi." Lee awkwardly greeted, with a hand gesture. Beside Glenn and those three other people, there were two more individuals in that room. One of them was an African-American woman with a short afro, and the other was a young lady with bright, blonde hair tied in a ponytail.

"Look, I'm Andrea." The blonde presented herself, putting a hand in her chest. She pointed her finger at the African-American man and the Hispanic one. "That's Theodore, but you can call him T-Dog. And that's Morales. And that's Jacqui." She concluded, beaming her finger at the afro woman. "But now we got a problem 'cause of you two."

"Whole city's on our ass, attracted by the shots." T-Dog elaborated, now clear of the armor.

"And we're stuck in this pharmacy, no way out." Morales added.

"We're sorry, but it was a life or death situation." Rick apologized sincerely.

"Yeah, we're sorry." Lee concurred, scratching the back of his head.

"I'll teach you guys a few things." Morales talked in a harsher tone, as he led everybody into the main room of the drugstore. "We're in here to scavenge for supplies. You know what the key to scavenging is? Surviving! Know what the key to surviving is? Sneaking in and out, tiptoeing, not shooting up the streets like it's O.K. Corral!"

They stormed inside the main room. In a corner was the counter to pay off your buys, along with a smoothie machine to lure people into drinking it. Shelves loitered around every corner, butted up against the walls. Most of them were free of their contents, but the ones who didn't had various products scrambled around in them.

Through the windows, a vast horde could be seen squeezing their putrid faces against the glass, desiring to get inside and feast on the living. They stained it with blood, muck and dead skin, making it near impossible to see through. "Get the picture now?" Morales asked. Lee and Rick just stayed frozen in place, gazing at the zombies investing.

"They heard you poppin' off rounds everywhere." T-Dog stated the obvious.

"Hey, T-Dog, try the C.B., try to contact the others." Morales instructed, jabbing his fingers at a portable radio Theodore was clutching between his hands.

"You guys got a group or something?" Lee enquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, outside Atlanta. We have a lotta people there." Morales informed, staring at T-Dog tinkering with the C.B.

"What about the refugee center?" Rick demanded, peaking at his feet.

"Refugee center? Yeah, they've got biscuits in the oven waitin' for us." Jacqui sarcastically said.

"Got no signal. Maybe the roof." T-Dog articulated, his eyes rolling back and forth in his cranium.

Suddenly, they heard a deafening gunshot coming from above. Everybody twitched their necks and glanced at the ceiling, but that was the only thing they saw.

"Oh no. Is that Dixon?" Morales proposed.

"That fuckin' asshole, we gotta stop him." Carley voiced with a determined tone.

"Who's Dixon?!" Lee interrogated, feeling a bit nervous about the herd and the gunfire.

"Just an idiot we're saddled with. Now let's go!" Andrea explained in the simplest way, as the gang began thundering through the shop to go stop Dixon.

* * *

The group barged through the rooftop door. After the first shots were heard, Lee and Rick were led through a hellish and infinite stairwell that had reaped some of their stamina. But they finally arrived at the roof.

There, they saw a man standing on the border of the roof, not afraid of falling down. He bore a leather vest with jeans, boots and nothing else. He wielded a sniper rifle, and he carelessly looked down the scope and was firing rounds at the incoming mob.

Morales was the first to step up, sprinting across the roof as quick as a gazelle. "Hey, Dixon, you crazy?!" Morales shouted. Dixon laughed at him, his arms becoming weaker, before he elevated his hands once more and fired again.

Merle Dixon grinned as the group was gathering close to him. Merle spun around and waved the sniper rifle in the air with a single hand, like he was painting a canvas. "Hey, y'all be more polite to a man with a gun!" Merle yelled with a smile with a redneck accent, before he graciously dived onto the roof with both his feet. "Only common sense." He smirked again as he cocked the bolt of his rifle.

"Man, you wastin' bullets we don't even got!" T-Dog reprehended with sputters, as he walked closer to Merle. "And you bringin' more of 'em down on our ass, man just chill!"

Morales paced beside T-Dog. "Bad enough I got this taco bender on my ass all day," Merle hissed with apparent racism, as the rifle passed from one palm to the other. "Now I'm gonna take orders from you?! I don't think so, bro, that'll be the day."

"'That'll be the day?'." T-Dog quoted, flapping his fingers in front of his chest. "Man, you got somethin' t' say t' me?!"

"Hey, guys, calm down." Lee decided to intervene, twirling his hands between the two men. "This is just gonna attract more walkers on top of us."

Merle giggled out so loud that it could be heard through the entire block. "Well, looks like Mr. Yo has brought one of his 'homies'. Whatcha gonna do?" Merle spoke with a serious tone, facing Lee. "Grab Spear-Chucker and Chinese Kid over there and beat ma ass? I don't think so."

"T-Dog, Lee, it's just not worth it!" Morales halted the discussion, leaving a suppressing silence pairing in the air. "Now Merle, we got enough problems, so just relax, okay?!"

"You wanna know the day?" Merle quizzed, looking at T-Dog past Lee who was still standing between them. "I'll tell you the day, Mr. Yo!" He mocked, acting like a rapper. "It's the day I take orders from a nigga."

"Motherfucker!" T-Dog spat as he tossed his arm back, and threw it against Merle's face.

Merle squatted a few inches down, and it was enough to dodge Theodore's punch. He then rose up back again, and kicked Lee right in the ribs to get him out of the way. Lee bent over with the pain, especially his wound that was aching violently again, and was forced to slump against a thick pipe stretching throughout the rooftop.

Seeing that the coast was now clear, he aroused his arms and pummeled T-Dog in the face with the stock of his rifle. Theodore became dazzled, and was forced to collapse heavily on the ground with a chop in his nose. The sky was blue, but when T-Dog felled himself on the floor a thunder was heard.

Screams were heard amid the several group members, but Rick tried to grip Merle. However all he received was a punch to the face, which sent him flying over the large pipe.

Merle was already preparing to launch a kick to the ribs of T-Dog, who was dwindled across the floor, but then Lee got up and tackled him, ramming both of them on the floor. His stomach was still hollering in pain, but he wasn't gonna let him beat Theodore to death. Rick, that was now recovering from the blow, pulled out his handcuffs and locked one of the rings around Merle's wrist, and then the other to the pipe.

"What, the…" Merle muttered in a hoarse voice, too perplexed to react. "I ain't lettin' myself get defeated by a nigger." Lee got upright. Merle was already starting to get up, but then noticed the cuffs, chaining him to the pipe and preventing him from moving. "Who the hell are you?!"

"I'm Officer Friendly." Rick spewed right on Merle's face. He noted a handgun hidden on his belt, so he pulled it out, switched the safety on and stored it away. Jacqui and Morales helped T-Dog sit against the small border of the roof. Lee stared at Rick giving his speech with his arms folded. "Listen here, Merle, things are different now. There are no niggas anymore. No dumb-as-shit, inbred white trash fools either." Merle glared at Rick with a face that showed he didn't give a damn, before he looked away. "There's dark meat and white meat. Us and the dead. We survive by pulling together, not apart."

"Screw you man." Merle insulted, with a careless and smug face.

"I see you make a habit of missin' the point." Rick told him proudly.

"Yeah? Well then screw you twice." He said again, with his neutral expression.

Rick sighed in anger and cocked Merle's handgun, before he rubbed it against his temple. Merle drifted his head a bit. "Oughta be polite to a man with a gun. Only common sense."

"You wouldn't. You're a cop." Merle dissed with a low tone.

"All I am anymore is a man looking for his wife and son." Rick asserted, giving Merle one of his usual glances, in which his eyes roll up so much his pupils almost enter inside his cranium. "Anyone who gets in the way of that is gonna lose. I'll give you a moment to think about that."

"What're you gonna do? Arrest me?" Merle dared him. Rick tapped around his pockets until he felt an item inside. He removed it and identified it as a bag of cocaine. Rick got up, walked up to the edge and heaved it down the building. "Hey man, what're you doing?! That was my stuff!" He complained, now kicking and moving quickly in his restraints. "Hey! If I get loose you better pray!"

Lee sighed heavily, as Rick bent over the rail enclosing the rooftop and Morales followed him. "That was, a…brave move coming from you." Carley complimented, approaching Lee.

"I wasn't gonna let that asshole beat the shit out of T-Dog." Lee nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"What happened down there? You seemed kinda shocked when you came in here." Carley questioned, placing a fist in her hip.

"Down there…it was…my parents' store." Lee admitted, frowning and gazing at the ground. "I was hoping to find them."

"I'm, uh…sorry. We had to drag a…couple of old people that were inside the office when we got here." Carley notified, stamping a shocked expression across Lee. "Are you…okay?"

"Yeah, I'm…fine. All things considered." Lee told her, brushing his chin with his fingers.

"I was gonna ask for your help, if you're up for it." Carley declared, making Lee glance at her. "We need to get inside the pharmacy to get some pills."

"Yeah, I can help you. Let's go." Lee reassured. Carley nodded, before she and Lee strolled towards the rooftop door.

* * *

Carley and Lee entered the pharmacy and neared themselves of the pharmacy door. Carley wrapped her fingers around the handle and revolved it, but nothing happened. "It's locked." Carley stated, as she turned her head and peered at Lee. "You wouldn't happen to have the keys, would you?"

"Sorry, no." Lee replied, shaking his head. "Why do you guys need pills?" He asked, wiggling his hand.

"There's this guy in our camp, Larry. He's old and has a heart disease." Carley elucidated, crossing her arms and staring at the pharmacy door. "He's a pain in the ass, but his daughter Lilly asked us to get some for him. He needs nitroglycerin pills."

"How 'bout we shoot the lock?" Lee proposed, fiddling his eyebrows.

"I don't wanna risk attracting more attention to us." Carley contradicted. They already had enough walkers battering at their windows.

"Wait…that couple you mentioned…where did you put them?"

"In the alley. Why?" Carley curiously inquired.

"Just follow me. Cover my back and I'll do the rest." Lee kept his plan shrouded in mystery.

* * *

Lee and Carley stepped outside into the alleyway, in which T-Dog and Morales had spanked those two zombies until they were dead. Right now it was clear, but if they made noise that could change at any second. "They're over there, by the dumpster." Carley directed to the large trash containers. By its side, the cadavers of a man and a woman were deposited. "I apologize by the way we got rid of the corpses. We didn't know you would…appear."

"It's okay." Lee said in a serene tone. "You wanted to be safe. Couldn't have known they were my parents."

Lee paced towards the dumpster, his breathing increasing as he went along. Every step he took, he smelled that rotten odor that infiltrated his nostrils. It was scary to imagine those were his parents, now turned into nothing but decaying corpses. But they were now lying beside Lee's.

Lee kneeled near the two corpses of his parents. He felt a tear leaking down his cheek, but he wiped it away quickly. He rummaged through his father's pockets until he found a metal object. He took it out, and even though it was the keys to the pharmacy, a smile didn't sprout in his face. How could he smile when he was looking at the inanimate bodies of his parents?

"Love you, dad and mom." He confessed to them, before he stood up. He spun around and began walking towards the door; not looking back.

**A/N: I've been waiting FOREVER to write this chapter, because who the hell doesn't love the Dixon brothers? Also, I've been planning out the storyline, and by the looks of it this story is bound to very long, so I hope you're in for the long haul. Hope you enjoyed and I'll see y'all!**


	7. Storm's A Brewin'

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 7 – Storm's A Brewin'**

**A/N: So here's the new chapter! Sorry it took a while, but lately I just kinda lost inspiration to write, and I thought it was best to take a break. But now I feel really inspired and ready to push on with the fanfic. Enjoy!**

Lee took a final twist on the key and the door opened. Thankfully, the power was off meaning that the alarm wouldn't go off. But the walkers still persisted outside. Lee pushed the door opened, and the duo peaked inside. The obscure room exhibited multiple shelves, all of them replenished with cylindrical boxes with pills. Lee and Carley stepped inside and began examining the boxes, picking them up and reading the labels with the dim light.

"It's nitroglycerin, ain't it?" Lee asked again, to be sure, just as he was investigating a pair of pill trays.

"Yeah, that's it." Carley grunted, trying to tiptoe to grab a crate of drugs she spotted on top of the shelf. She gripped it and then lowered the crate onto the floor. She then kneeled and scoured through the tablets. "Since we're here, grab everything you can carry."

Lee responded with a noise, as he stuffed his pockets with pills. He couldn't know what they were, due to their complicated names and the fact he didn't have medical expertise. "Mind me asking…what did you do before all of this started?"

"I was a reporter for WBEA." Carley confessed, making Lee let out a surprised sound.

"Does that mean you were famous all over the news channels?" Lee inquired with a chuckle.

"Not really." Carley said, as she silently triumphed when she picked up some nitroglycerin medicaments. "I never got any autograph requests if that's what's you're hinting at. The pay wasn't too good either. Buncha work hours. Rarely got a day off or even some time to myself. What about you?" She reciprocated, glancing at Lee.

"History teacher." Lee confided, concentrating at ransacking the pills previously owned by his parents. "Trying to find my wife Deborah."

"Well, I'm sure you'll find her eventually." Carley reassured with a firm tone. "I think we got all we need. Let's go back up."

"Yeah, my pockets are full anyway." Lee conceded, his pockets burping with pill boxes.

"Let's go then." Carley disclosed, as the man and woman left the pharmacy and headed towards the stairwell.

* * *

Lee and Carley climbed up the stairs and entered the rooftop. Rick, Morales, T-Dog, Jacqui and Andrea were leaned on the rails, gazing at the threat below them. Merle was still cuffed to the tube, his skin red as wine and he often mumbled some non-sense. The duo walked and joined the group.

The sight below them was creepy. Walkers were roaming around in the street, bumping into phone cabinets and flag poles. From the height they were in, their bodies were nothing but black dots moving on ground level.

"My God, it's like Times Square down there." Andrea remarked, gawking at the imminent threat.

"Hey guys. We found some nitroglycerin for Larry, and some other medical supplies." Carley informed, as she and Lee tilted onto the rail beside the group. T-Dog was sitting against the wall, endlessly toying with the C.B.

"Good work, perhaps he won't be such a pain in the neck now." Jacqui praised, giving them a quick look before glaring down again.

"How's that signal?" Morales asked over to T-Dog.

"Like Dixon's brain. Weak." T-Dog teased with a grin. All we received was Merle giving him an eyeful and flipping him off with his free hand.

"Keep trying." Morales insisted, not losing moral.

"I'm not sure if there's anything they can do." Jacqui acknowledged in a pessimist tone.

"We only got some people outside the city." Morales told Rick with a nod. "There is no refugee center. That's a pipe dream."

"Shit…" Lee muttered, lowering his head and passing a hand through his neck. After all the shit they had been through to get there, and now he discovered it wasn't true. He felt stupid; almost dying among a horde to chase a hallucination.

"Then she's right, we're on our own." Rick said with no enthusiasm. "It's up to us to find a way out."

"Good luck with that." Merle intervened, always cuffed to the pipe. "These streets ain't safe in this part of town from what I hear." Merle turned his head to Andrea, who was on her knees digging through a bag. "Ain't that right, sugar-tits?"

"Pfft." Andrea hissed, shaking her head. The rest of the group returned to their task of surveying the road for another exit.

"Hey, honeybunch. Whatcha say ya get me out of this cuffs," Merle advocated, jabbing his hand towards the metal circlets around his hand. "We go off somewhere and bump some uglies. Gonna die anyway."

"I'd rather." Andrea reciprocated, removing something from the bag and standing up.

"Rub-muncher." Merle slandered with a face showing he was not surprised. "Figured as much. The streets ain't safe."

"Now that's an understatement." Morales said. The group kept ogling continually the miniature figures of walkers trekking around below.

"What about under the streets? Sewers?" Lee proposed, rubbing his chin.

"Oh man." Morales murmured, realizing how genius Lee was. He turned over to Glenn, who was sitting on the stairs and coquetting with yet another radio. "Hey Glenn." The Asian man instantly rose his head at the mention of his name. "Check the alley. See any manholes?"

Glenn leaped onto his feet, before he spiraled around and sprinted across the rooftop. The gang viewed in hype, anxious to hear his response. Glenn bent over the edge to look at the road, before he turned round again and walked in a fast pace towards them. "No. Must be out on the street where all the geeks are."

"Well, we're screwed then, right?" Carley inquired in a pessimist tone.

"Maybe not." Jacqui interceded, her voice enthusiastic like a scientist that had unraveled the discovery of the century. "Old buildings like this built in the late 20's…big structures often had drainage tunnels into the sewers in case of flooding, down in the sub-basements."

"How do you know that?" Glenn asked curiously.

"It's my job. Was." Jacqui explained, eyeing each of her friends. "I worked in the city zoning office."

Rick turned around as the group remained silent, considering the option.

* * *

The sub-basements were a dark place; their creepiness being enhanced by the dim light, rusty pipes and creaking sound echoing through the walls. Lee, Rick, Andrea, Morales, Carley, Jacqui and Glenn had climbed down the thousand steps towards the drainage sewer systems, and they were all equipped with flashlights; illuminating the blackness. T-Dog had stayed on the roof, surveilling Merle and trying to contact the group.

"This is it?" Morales quizzed as they arrived at their destination. It was a small room, with a squared hole in the floor with a tiny fence surrounding it and a ladder constructed into the wall. The group leaned on the railing and gazed below them, at the smelly, dirty and perilous shaft as they emitted the light towards it. "You sure?"

"I scoped this place out real good. It's the only thing in the building that goes down." Glenn explained. His voice was accompanied by the resounding noise of dripping water. "Never went down into it. Who'd want to right?"

Glenn raised his head, only to find out that everyone's heads were turning toward him. Glenn's lips constrained, recognizing that he was the one who was gonna have to go down there. "Oh. Great." He sarcastically sputtered.

"We'll cover your back, man." Morales asserted.

"No. You won't. Look guys, until now I always came in here by myself, take a few things, in and out, easy. First time I bring a group, everything goes to hell. No offense." Glenn elucidated, as the group attentively listened. "If you want me to go down this gnarly hole, fine. But we have to do it my way." Rick nodded, so as did the rest of the group. "It's tight down there. If I run into something and have to get out quick, I don't want you all jammed up behind me getting me killed. I'll take one of you." Rick immediately came forward, but Glenn stopped him. "Not you either. You've got Merle's gun and I've seen you shoot. I'd feel better if you were on that drug store, covering our asses." He then pointed his finger at Andrea, Carley and Lee. "And you all got guns so go with him. Morales comes with me, Jacqui stays here. If something happens, holler, and get us out in a hurry."

"Okay." Jacqui acknowledged, responding with a nod.

"Okay, everybody knows their jobs." Rick spoke up, patting Glenn's shoulder.

"Let's get started. Those walkers can burst in at any minute now." Lee encouraged.

Glenn wrapped his lips around his flashlight, before he gripped the ladder and began descending into the sewers. The group made space for Morales to pass through, and he too chewed on the flashlight as he followed Glenn into the drainage tunnels.

* * *

Back on the rooftop, having rescue coming was being deemed useless. T-Dog was slumped against the border, in the shadow, while Merle was always attached to the pipe, crouching and burning under the smoking sun. Once in a while, a thunder would be heard. A storm's a brewing.

"Is there anybody out there?" T-Dog talked to the walkie-talkie. The same question, the same gesture on pressing the button then letting go. "I'm hoping to hear somebody's voice 'cause I'm damn sick tired of hearing mine."

"Well that makes two of us. Why don't you turn that crap off?" Merle suggested with his hoarse voice. "You givin' me a headache boy."

"Why don't you pull your head out of your ass? Maybe the headache will go away." T-Dog mocked, but Merle just chuckled. "Try some positivity for a change. Damn."

"I tell you what. You get me outta these cuffs…and I'll be all Sammy Sunshine positive for you." Merle essayed to strike another of his horrible deals. "Hey, see that hacksaw in the tool bag over there?" Merle jabbed his finger at Dale's tool box, lingering a few feet away from him. T-Dog passed a hand through the area of his face Merle and beaten him. "Get it for me, hmm? Make it worth ya while. Whadya say? C'mon man, take me off these things." He illustrated, by motioning his hand in the cuff.

"So you can beat my ass again?" T-Dog retorted coldly. "Or call me nigga some more?"

"C'mon now, that wasn't personal." Merle lied. "It's just that my kind and your kind ain't meant to mix. That's all. Don't mean that we can't work together, parley, as long as there's some kind a' mutual gain involved." Merle grinned, talking business. "So…'bout that hacksaw…"

"I guess you want that rifle too so you can shoot the new guys when they get back, uh?" T-Dog predicted, glancing at the gun and then back at Merle.

"Hmm." Merle breathed, barely moving his face or body.

* * *

Back at the Atlanta camp, everything was rather calm. Things had set down after the communication from the C.B., and everyone was back at their usual tasks. Dale had taken a break from standing on top of the RV, and Allen was now replacing him. His wife, Donna, along with the other women had gone doing laundry except for Amy, who was watching over the kids and Lilly who was trying to keep her dad calm. Doug off tinkering with some contraption. Ed lazily smoking a cigarette. Kenny busy with his truck.

"There ain't a goddamn hose in this world." Dale whispered, as he was immersed inside the RV's engine and he was unscrewing bolts with his tools. Jim was standing behind him. He was a rather old dude, but was handy with the tools, especially when it came to vehicles. "Where the hell we gonna find a replacement?"

"It's late. They should've been back by now!" Amy complained. Beside her, Billy, Ben and Duck were playing around on the floor.

"Amy, don't stress out." Katjaa soothed her, being reclined in a lawn chair next to her son. "They'll be back eventually. Andrea knows how to protect herself."

"Kat, don't tell me that. If it were your husband out there you'd be stressing too." She replied, a bit harsher than she intended.

Katjaa thought it was best not to say anything else, knowing Amy wouldn't be calmed down. She turned her head and saw Sophia sitting in the station wagon near her father, Ed. Ed was drunk, low piece of scum, lazy, nothing good came out of that man. Carol wouldn't admit it, but everyone knew that he was violent to her. She would always appear with fresh bruises in the morning.

"Ed! Why can't Sophia play too?" Katjaa asked loudly.

Ed released a huff of smoke into the air, before he glared towards Katjaa. "It's none of your damned business, woman. Sophia stays here, she wants to be with her dad." He responded like a brute, before he looked at his daughter. "Ain't that right?"

Sophia nodded nervously out of fear, gazing at the ground. Katjaa sighed; there was nothing she could do. Ed didn't do anything to help around camp, and nobody seemed to have the balls to stand up to him.

Lori folded a piece of clothing and strung it on the hanger with a few springs. A few feet away from her, Shane and Carl were sitting by a burnt out campfire. Shane was teaching him how to do knots, or whatever things men like to do. From amid them, laughter erupted.

The next second, the radio began sizzling. "_H-hello, an-anybody h-h-ear me?!_" T-Dog on the other side spoke.

Heads were raised, and the group began gathering around the RV, because the C.B. was placed on top of it. Allen, being the one closest to it, gripped the radio and pressed the button.

"Hello? Reception's bad on this end." Allen uttered.

"_Shane?! That you?!_"

"Is that them?!" Lori demanded in an alarming voice, putting her hands on her hips. Allen nodded positively.

"_We're in some deep shit! We're trapped in Everett's Prescriptions!_"

"They're trapped?!" Kenny repeated with concern.

"_There're geeks all over the place. Hundreds a' 'em. W-er-ss-ro-nd-_"

"T-Dog! I can't understand!" Allen said in frustration, but then all there was was static. "Dammit. Lost 'im."

"They're in the local pharmacy." Mark conveyed, frowning his eyebrows.

"Shit…" Kenny muttered, sliding his hand down his face.

"Dammit. Look, guys, here's what we do." Shane voiced loudly, taking over leadership. "We wait. If in a few hours we don't get a word from 'em, we go get them, alright?"

"My sister's out there! She needs our help now!" Amy hollered, waving her arm towards the horizon.

"And my dad needs those pills urgently. You all know how he gets angry easily." Lilly ranted, intervening in the gang's conversation.

"I know, I know." Shane assented. "But we can't go out riskin' our people like that. They might be able to get out. We'll have to wait an' see."

* * *

Rick, Lee, Carley and Andrea stepped into the drugstore. More walkers had accumulated on the windows, and some of them already had cracks, which was worrying. They paced around the room slowly and carefully, like they were walking on thin ice.

"Me and Lee got a buncha meds from the pharmacy." Carley announced, in order to inform Rick and Andrea. "It'll be useful if someone gets hurt back at camp."

"This camp you guys have…is it outside of Atlanta?" Lee enquired, keeping an eye on the windows.

"Yeah, a lot of people." Andrea stated. "Usually, Glenn's the only one that comes here, but we thought we'd be able to get more stuff if we all…"

Suddenly, one of the windows shattered into a thousand pieces, that collapsed on the ground. The walkers on the other side began bending their bodies, flailing their arms to get inside.

"Shit!" Rick cursed. He pulled out his holstered Colt Python and aimed it at the lurkers, firing a deadly round into the skull of the walker that was about to get in.

The noise made the walkers more active. They had to find a solution quick, otherwise the horde would realize that there was an open entrance right there. Lee's eyes went back and forth until he spotted a large shelf right next to the broken window, perfect to barricade it.

"SHELF!" Lee screamed. Carley reached for her Glock 17, and fired a few rounds at the herd so as did Rick. The sound from the guns was bound to backfire on them, but they had no other choice.

Lee and Andrea sprinted across the room, avoiding the other shelves and empty food containers. They glued their hands onto the shelf as they pushed it with all their might and strength, letting out small groans.

They panted once the sturdy shelf was cloaking the window. They could hear the dead's claws scrubbing against it. Rick took the chance to reload his six shooter, whilst Carley just sheathed her weapon. "That ain't gonna hold for long." He affirmed.

Glenn, Morales, Jacqui and T-Dog stormed inside the room, gaping at the scene with shock. "What you find down there?" Andrea asked, recomposing herself.

"Not a way out." Morales said with a lump up his throat.

"I managed to contact the camp, but what the hell we gon' do now?" T-Dog demanded, in a rhetorical question.

"There's a truck out back. We might be able to start it, but I'm not sure if we'll make it past the herd." Jacqui spoke.

"It's our only shot. We have to take it, otherwise we'll get swarmed in here. T-Dog, take this key." Rick elaborated, tossing a tiny key at Theodore. T-Dog peaked at the teensy object clutched in his hands with a serious face. "Free Merle and meet us out back. But now we gotta hurry."


	8. Glint Of Hope And Despair

**The Walking Dead: New Day Gone By**

**Chapter 8 – Glint Of Hope And Despair**

**A/N: So here's the eighth chapter my friends. It was a bit difficult for me to decide whether T-Dog would drop the key or not, but I think I made the right choice. Anyways, enjoy!**

Rick, Lee, Carley, Morales and Jacqui burst out of the backdoor leading into the alley. The door creaked and their feet echoed in the vacant space, and they were constantly looking around them to make sure no walkers got them. Maybe they were slow and stupid, but there was always one hiding somewhere or playing dead.

T-Dog was absent though. He was bolting through the stairs, in order to retrieve Merle.

The alley only had a couple of zombies lurking around. Besides them there was a cube van, with a big spot on the back to carry them all, and a Challenger red sports car was parked beside it. The rest of the horde was still focused on the pharmacy, but if they made too much noise that could change at any minute. Jacqui, Carley and Morales were carrying bags, filled with the supplies they scavenged.

Morales, equipped with a baseball bat, sneakily approached the first walker. He raised his arms and then downed them with all his strength on the monster's skull. Its cranium fractured and it slumped on the floor, releasing a squirt of blood in the air. It was still jerking its hands a bit, so Morales launched a finishing blow to its head, which killed it for good.

Lee decided to get the next one, but didn't have a melee weapon and guns were out of the equation. He took a quick glance around him and spotted a rusty metal rod. In a fast move, he ducked for a second and gripped it, before he leaped on his feet again. He swooped the rod in the air and struck the walker's head.

He still wasn't used to the fact that human skulls were too hard to be cracked that easily, so the zombie just swung around, facing Lee. Lee extended his eyelids, feeling a slight dread, before he prepared his arms again and threw another blow. This time around, he impaled it through the mouth.

He let go of the weapon as it fell along with the walker who was bleeding a thick and black liquid and had its jaw falling off. The group arrived at the two vehicles. "Anyone know how to hot-wire?" Carley asked, as low as she could. The people around her all halted in front of the two vehicles.

"I could try." Glenn said, with a calm voice.

"No need for that." Rick told him, stopping him by grabbing his shoulder. "These work vans, they keep an extra key on 'em. Just smash the window and get inside." He gave the green light to do something once thought of as crime.

Jacqui, Carley and Morales headed towards the back of the truck, tiptoeing, whilst Glenn strolled towards the driving seat. They heard the glass shattering, as Glenn broke the window with his elbow. In the back, they heard a sliding door being pulled open.

"Lee." Rick spoke, turning to the respective person. "You gotta create us a distraction, okay?"

"Yeah, of course." Lee concurred. He wasn't gonna be selfish; he was gonna give these people a chance. And if he didn't die in the horde back in the Atlanta, he wasn't gonna die now.

"Come with me." He instructed, leading Lee toward the Challenger. "When the alarm goes off, you drive off and meet us just out of Atlanta, okay?"

"How am I supposed to find you?" Lee inquired, staring at the attractive car.

"Glenn said to head towards the woods. We'll be waiting for you." Rick explained. He was about to turn around, before he halted and patted his shoulder. "You sure you okay doing this?"

"Of course. I'm probably the one who's got the least to lose." Lee admitted with a confident tone.

"We're all set!" Jacqui shouted, as Morales and Carley were already hopping in the back of the truck.

"Now we wait for T-Dog." Rick sputtered, keeping a steady eye on both the alley entrance and the backdoor. "I'll hot-wire the car and then you'll start drivin'."

"Got it." Lee muttered with a nod, before they twirled around and marched towards the vehicle.

Lee smashed the black window to pieces with a well-placed elbow. Rick had already leaped inside the driver's seat whilst Glenn was sitting right next to him. The rest of the group was dawdled in the back. Lee jumped in the air when a deafening alarm began screaming out of the car, but then he thought it would just make a better distraction. Rick reached in and opened the door, before he flung it open and bent inside, messing with the cables below the dash. After a few nervous seconds, the vehicle gained life and its engine roared.

"There ya go." Rick grunted, exiting the car and dashing towards the van.

Lee sat inside the car and shut the door. He wasn't used to being able to drive such an expensive vehicle, so the modern console made him perplexed in a good way, but that wasn't the task at hand. He stepped on the pedal and twisted the steering wheel, drifting off the alleyway and into the road.

Once he was on the road, he peaked at the rearview mirror and saw the massive horde of walkers chasing the sound. "Yeah! Come this way!" He yelled at the beasts.

* * *

T-Dog was sprinting like a madman up the stairs. His muscles were sore and it was hard to inhale puffs of air, but he wasn't letting a man trapped in a rooftop for the dead to catch him. He was concentrated and had a single goal in mind.

Skipping two steps at the same time, he finally arrived at the rooftop. He stormed inside the roof, stumbling around in a disastrous manner due to the lack of stamina. Merle, who was chained across the roof, was already smiling.

"Hey, T-Dog!" He hollered, waving his arm. "Here, man, c'mon, c'mon, get me out!"

T-Dog jogged across the space, his movements being sloppy due to the fatigue and the fact that he wasn't the most athletic person. He almost toppled over and dropped the key, but he prevented it and kneeled near Merle, who had a grin from ear to ear. "Yeah, that's right."

T-Dog inserted the key in the tiny hole, twisting it as fast as he could. He unlocked the cuffs, and then removed them from Merle's wrist.

"Okay, now…" T-Dog said, but was cut off when Merle punched him in the face, uppercut style.

T-Dog collapsed on his back, too dazzled to figure what had happened. Merle now had the upper hand. He picked up the metal circlets and wrapped one of them around T-Dog's idle hands, and the other one around the pipe. After the deed was done, he got up, taking his time. Placing a hand around the pipe and pulling himself up. "Don't feel too good being chained up like some beast, does it?!"

"What…what the fuck?!" T-Dog cursed, as he regained his senses and noticed that he was attached to the pipe. Merle got up with a laugh, walking towards the sniper rifle. T-Dog brandished his fist, but it was stuck due to the handcuffs. "Hey, man, don't leave me here!"

"Sorry, Jay-Z." Merle hissed, picking up the gun and checking the chamber, before pushing the bolt back. "You'll be fine. I'm sure you know how to pick locks." Another idiotic laugh, as he slung the sniper on his back.

"C'mon, Merle, what the fuck!" T-Dog grunted, kicking around, essaying to release himself from the cuffs. He viewed in despair as Merle ambled vanished into the door, whistling in joy. "Murderer! You're a fuckin' murderer!"

Merle disappeared inside the building, shuttering the door with force behind him. "MERLE! Don't leave me here!" T-Dog blared, but he knew that that metallic sound meant he was doomed.

* * *

Rick chewed his thumbnail nervously. It had been a few minutes ever since Lee departed, and he was getting worried.

"Where the hell is he?!" Andrea interrogated, with a stressful sigh.

The backdoor then flew open. They at first believed it to be T-Dog, but then they acknowledged the redneck smile and clothing, along with the sniper rifle. It was Merle, and T-Dog was missing.

"Oh shit." Rick said, as Merle was elevating the rifle and aiming it at the van.

"GET DOWN!" Glenn shouted being in the passenger seat. The same second they all curled into human balls, the windshield was shattered by a bullet, sending pieces all over Rick and Glenn.

Rick crushed the accelerator as he turned the steering wheel towards the exit. Jacqui in the back let out a small scream as they rushed out of the alley and into the street. Another bullet struck the side of the truck, but that didn't stop the vehicle.

"Yeah, that's right an' run!" Merle mocked, raising his rifle in the air with one hand.

Back in the truck, the group in the back was slumped against the van, panting as the van wobbled from the holey road. A few glass pieces were scratching Rick's back, but the adrenaline made him have a serious face as he gaped at the road in front of him.

"I can't believe…Merle…what'd he do to T-Dog?" Glenn questioned, a few high breaths exiting his lungs.

"If I had t' guess," Morales voiced, taking a tiny break to speak. "He fought T-Dog and left him up on the roof."

"Jesus, I…I can't believe we left him behind…" Andrea stated, burying her face in her palms.

Nobody else said another word. The only thing they heard was Rick's breathing, giving his trademark glare at the road: head lowered, eyes almost rolling out of his orbits.

* * *

T-Dog had now deemed useless liberating himself from the cuffs. All he could do now was droop against the pipe. Awaiting rescue, death, whatever. His backwards hat didn't help a lot protecting the sun, but he didn't care right now.

Suddenly, he heard a noise coming from the closed door. His head turned around and he glanced at the door. He opened his mouth, because he thought it was Merle, but then he started hearing growls and strange noises, like hands rubbing the door.

Walkers.

His jaw trembled at the thought of being eaten alive. He had already given up on life, but now the thought of having teeth nosh his flesh gave him strength.

"Aw hell no." He whispered to himself.

His head darted in every direction, before his eyes set upon Dale's tool bag. It had a variety of tools sprouting out of it. Hacksaws, rulers, wrenches, but the instrument that caught his eye was a screwdriver.

"There ain't no way in hell I'm dyin' today!" He told himself.

He used his right hand to take off his t-shirt. It was a bit hard being single-handed, but after a few seconds he managed to. He twisted it as the battering on the door intensified in order to craft a spoon. He then laid on the ground, lancing the garment to try to catch the screwdriver.

"Ain't dyin' today!" He muttered. He was almost encasing the tool in his t-shirt. "AIN'T DYIN' TODAY!"

He embraced the screwdriver with the 'grapple', and the tool fell inside his reach.

* * *

The burglary alarm just kept emitting an annoying sound, attracting the entire city's attention. Lee parked by a nearby house. Instead of heading towards the Atlanta camp immediately, he had taken a little detour.

He looked out the window, ignoring the intermittent noise. The household had been vandalized, an image that made his heart throb, and some aspects he didn't recognize. The front door, accompanied by a brief staircase. The two front windows, broken and having empty holes in their frames. Blood and even a severed corpse littered the front yard, tainting the green grass.

Lee opened the door and got out, only having one thing in mind. He approached slowly the body that was mutilated on the ground. As he took each step, his heart was beating faster, his jaw convulsed even more violently and his narrowed eyelids began to stretch out.

"N…n…no…" Lee murmured.

The cadaver had one of its legs missing, the other being rotten and scratched. The clothing, consisting of a pink t-shirt and a skirt, were all torn to pieces. The dead woman's face, that was putrid and had dragged expressions, featured long brown hair that was messy and jumbled.

That woman was Deborah.

"No…no…no…" Lee repeated with a shaky voice.

He crumbled onto his knees. He felt his cheeks become wet, as tears materialized in the corner of his eyes and strolled towards the end of his jaws. He was forced to cover his mouth his left hand because of the smell and the disgusting sight. His breathing was irregular and erratic, air coming out of his lungs in stranger manners. His right hand moved to touch his wife's cadaver, but for some reason he always retracted it.

Oh no, it was coming…

Lee arched over his body more than he already was and a yellow paste spewed out of his mouth, which intensified the tears. After he had released everything, he swept his hand past his lips.

Without warning, the body on the ground became animated, spasms surfacing to its wrists and ankles. It then leaped onto Lee, pinning him onto the floor.

"What the…!" Lee blurted out, being diverged from his sobbing.

He gripped the zombie's shoulders, as it kept motioning its arms and biting the area between Lee's face and its mouth. He was gonna die. He was too weak to support the undead Deborah, and for a second he didn't think we wanted to live.

Then he heard footsteps in the grass. He twitched his head and spotted a little girl sprinting in his direction, before she stalled her jog beside Lee. She wore a white dress, her head germinated a big afro and she donned a purple D hat.

"Here!" The girl screeched, lending out a hammer to Lee.

That undead woman was his wife, but in a life or death situation survival instincts take over. Lee clutched the hammer with difficulty, before he drew a half-circle in the air with the tool and it landed on Deborah's head.

The walker collapsed on the ground, relieving Lee from the weight. He didn't waste a second diving on his feet, and then he twirled around and struck Deborah in the face again. The blow sent blood, dead skin and brains around his shirt and his hand.

He hit her again. And again. And again. Until she was motionless on the ground like a ragdoll. Lee panted and took a few steps back, dumping the hammer on the floor. "What's…what's your name?" Lee asked the little girl. He was a bit shocked seeing an infant out there all by itself, but it was enough of a distraction to get his mind off Deborah.

"My…my name's Clementine."

* * *

**A/N: Yahoo! The moment everybody was waiting for! Lee has now met Clementine, but what happens to T-Dog? Make sure to tell me your opinions.**

**Also, was I the only one who cried in the mid-season 5 finale, "Coda"?**


	9. Rendezvous

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 9 – Rendezvous**

Rick along with the rest of the group that had gone with him, were arriving at the Atlanta camp. Glenn had stated that their destination was too far away. They were driving through a harsh road. Rocks, branches and stones made it hard for the tires to roll, and Rick had to avoid trees to pass between them. Besides Rick who drove, the rest were still as statues, trying to forget about T-Dog and only hoping they'd be able to retrieve him later. They had no clues of Lee.

"Are we close?" Rick inquired, so concentrated that drops of sweat sprouted of his forehead.

"Yeah, just about." Morales said.

Just then, Rick started seeing a figure beyond the vegetation. Narrowing his eyes and tightening the wheel, he recognized it as being an impeccable RV, where a man stood on top of it with a sniper rifle holstered on his back.

"We're here." Glenn announced, being obvious. In the back, the survivors became happy, knowing they would see their families again.

Rick switched off the ignition as he parked in a clearing near the urban bivouac. He heard the back gate door rattling, as Jacqui, Carley, Morales and Andrea hopped off. A blonde girl came running and squeezed her arms around Andrea. And Morales was greeted with his Hispanic family, made of his wife, his son and daughter.

The sight of this just made Rick sadder. It reminded him of his family. He banged his head lightly on the steering wheel, feeling his eyes watering and his throat drying. He dissipated those thoughts away, putting them into a latent state. Now it wasn't the time.

He exited out of the cube van, stepping out onto the mud below his feet. Apparently, Morales was talking about him to a few of the group members and Andrea to her sister.

In front of him, there were only faces of men and women that he didn't recognize. It made him feel a bit lost. But then he acknowledged two faces he never thought he'd see again.

"Holy shit…" Were the only words coming out of his mouth, as his jaw drooped.

…

Lee started noticing that walkers were erupting from around each corner, alley, door and window. That goddamned alarm was like a dinner bell ringing. They had stayed idle for too long.

Lee wiped his face and grabbed Clementine's hand. "Let's go!"

The man sprinted with the girl towards the Challenger, careful not to let her fall. He opened his door in a hurry and let Clementine go first, as he peaked around him to make sure no lurkers were catching him from behind. Clem scooted on the passenger seat, before Lee sank in the driver seat.

The urban person shut the door with all his mighty, just when he noted that the motor had been on all along, wasting gasoline. He felt a bit frustrated, but it would have been impossible to switch off the engine without the keys.

He changed gears with his right hand, then smashing the accelerator with his foot. The powerful car only took a few seconds to reach a supersonic speed, which caused Lee and Clementine to be dug into their seats.

A small horde was beginning to form with the incoming biters. Being distracted by the adrenaline, Lee rammed into a roamer that had managed to step into the track. It clashed against the windshield, splattering black blood and dead flesh across it. Both Clem and Lee began screaming; Lee especially because he couldn't see what was in front of him. He twitched the steering wheel back in forth, creating an erratic balance, and even had the idea to turn on the windshield wipers. All of the combined elements eventually led to the zombie falling off the car. And the wipers made the road clear, except for some bits of putrid skin.

The duo panting, Lee was wondering if their loud alarm wasn't gonna get them killed. But it was no use dwelling on it, afterall he wouldn't know how to turn it off.

"So…I'm Lee." Lee presented himself, as Clementine calmed down. "Put your seatbelt." Clementine obeyed, in a warp stringing herself up with the belt to protect herself. "Where are your parents?"

"They're in Savannah." Clementine affirmed, her voice still somewhat shaky.

"You've been survivin'…all by yourself?" Lee guessed, elevating his eyebrows.

"…Yeah…" Clementine admitted.

"Well, Clementine…I'll be taking care of you until your parents show up, okay? You can't be out there all alone, it ain't safe." Lee conceded with a hand gesture.

"Hmhm." Clem assented with a noise.

"We're gonna get out of Atlanta." Lee disclosed. "There's a camp there. Got people I know there. We'll be safe."

…

Lee stopped the car near the camp, as the burglar alarm just kept going off. "Stay in here." Lee adverted. Clementine nodded, and Lee exited the car.

A man, donning a Sheriff hat, came sprinting in Lee's direction. "Who the hell are you?!" The man demanded, his hand lingering around his gun holster.

"I'm Lee. I'm with Andrea and the others!" He spoke, but then sudden realization struck him. "Wait…you're that sheriff from the hospital!"

Shane extended his eyelids. "Holy…fuck." Shane mumbled, before he ran up to the hood. He popped it and fiddled inside, before he ripped out a cable which shut off the alarm.

Three more people arrived at the scene, who unknown to Lee were Amy, Kenny and Lilly. "Who's this guy, Shane?! He's gonna bring all the walkers on top of us!" Lilly sputtered with an angry expression.

"Look, guys, I'm Lee. I was with Andrea and the others." Lee repeated.

"Andrea?! She's okay?!" Amy inquired with a concerned tone.

"Yeah, she's fine." Lee said, as he jabbed his finger towards the horizon. The four people spun around and gawked toward the woods, spotting a cube van arriving. "And I'm sure that's them arriving."

…

Rick, Lori and Carl ran towards each other, attracted to each other like magnets. They all took part in a huge family hug, in which Rick held him tightly. "I can't believe…I thought you guys were gone…" Rick admitted.

At the same time, Shane and Lee holding Clementine's hand were joining the occasion. "I-I was so worried about you…" Rick muttered.

Shane removed his hat and patted Rick on the back. "It's good to see you, man." Shane conceded.

Rick turned his head around and a smile appeared in his face when he spotted him. "Oh my God, Shane!" He said, his eyes almost escaping his skull.

Lee glanced at Clementine and they both smirked. If Lee had to guess, Shane and Rick were probably partners before the apocalypse. "Shane helped us get here." Lori explained as the family slowly detached from the hug, and she wiped a tear away. "We wouldn't have made it without him."

Carley stepped into the scene and halted near Lee. "Made it here safe?" She asked.

"Couple close calls, but we're fine." Lee elucidated with a calm voice.

Carley gaped at Clementine in amazement. "So…who's she?"

"She's Clementine. Found her on the way here." Lee elaborated, taking a peek at Clem.

"That's a very special name sweetie." Carley complimented. Clementine hid behind Lee's legs.

"Thank you." Clem thanked, as her cheeks blushed.

"Looks like Rick and Shane used to be partners." Carley observed with an elevated eyebrow. "Once they're done catching up, Shane can give you a tour; let you get acquainted with everyone."

Carley set off to go somewhere. Lee strolled towards Rick and Shane, who were talking like old friends. "You're Lee, right?" Shane asked as the man approached.

"I am."

"And you got a daughter with you!" Shane perceived with an enthusiastic tone.

"She's not my daughter." Lee contradicted, passing his palm in front of his chest. "I'm looking after her temporarily."

"Well, I was just about showing Rick this place out. Come along." Shane said, waving his arm towards himself.

…

Glenn folded his arms and drew an arc in his mouth. It was hopeful, seeing a family reunite in the ruins of mankind. Just then, Lilly walked up to him and intervened.

"Glenn, what were you thinking?!" Lilly stipulated. Glenn already knew by her voice this wasn't good.

"What do you mean?" Glenn inquired, feeling slightly confused.

"You brought three new people into our group!" Lilly hissed, splattering her words on Glenn's face.

"So what's wrong with that?" Glenn insisted, still not knowing what she was talking about.

"Have you seen how many mouths we have to feed?" Lilly mentioned, throbbing her arm towards the group. "We're, what, twenty-six people here? And now with the new people we're almost thirty!"

"I couldn't leave them behind to die! Plus, Rick was the one who helped us get outta there." Glenn riposted. Lilly sometimes was a head hard to crack.

"Maybe you see it that way, but the food is getting scarcer by the day, and each time you bring fewer supplies." Lilly said, her tone lowering a little bit.

"We'll manage." Glenn reassured her. "Daryl knows his hunting stuff, he's even out there right now on one of his long hunting trips. Andrea and Amy often fish by the creek."

"Okay, but if we start to go starving, you'll be the one to blame." Lilly concluded her argument, before she spun around and paced toward an unknown location. Glenn sighed and slapped his own face, before Allen emerged by his side.

"Hey Glenn. Whatcha got?" Allen inquired.

Glenn crouched and unzipped his backpack. Allen got on his knees and too gazed inside the pack. "I got some candy bars for the kids, some soap, detergent and a couple rolls of toilet paper. We got more bags of stuff though."

"Great!" Allen assented, delighted with all of the things Glenn had ransacked.

…

"You guys already met Glenn, Morales, Jacqui, Andrea and Carley. Where's T-Dog though?" Shane interrogated. He was followed by Rick, Lee and Clementine, and Lori and Carl were accompanying Rick.

"We lost 'im downtown. Not sure if he's alive." Rick sadly enounced.

"Crap. The camp's gonna be sad. T-Dog was a good guy. Hopefully we'll be able to send a rescue team down there, find him. Merle isn't with you either. Daryl's gonna be pissed. " Shane reciprocated, disappointed. "Anyways, that's Allen hounding Glenn for supplies." Shane presented the man. "Allen's wife, Donna, is around here somewhere. They've got twins, Billy and Ben. They're hellions."

The group moved near the RV. Shane indicated the top of the vehicle, where an old man sat with a rifle on his lap. Two men with grimy clothes were sitting near the large RV, eating a can of beans. In the back of a station wagon, Ed and Sophia sat whilst Carol was taking care of clothing. "That's Dale up there keeping watch." Lee attentively listened to Shane, trying to remember everyone's names. They received a friendly beckon from Dale. "It's his camper."

"This place you guys settled in, it's nice." Lee flattered, looking around him at the green grass and the thriving trees.

"It's safer than Atlanta." Shane pointed his finger toward another old man leaning against the camper, and a young lady chatting with him. "That's Lilly, and her father Larry. Warn ya right away, he's got a temper. Steer away from him. Then there's Jim and Mark eating by the camper, along with the Peletier family: Ed, Carol and Sophia. They, uh, have discussions, so…just don't poke your nose inside."

They chased Shane past a few tents and reached a pickup truck. A redneck was bent inside, while his supposed wife and son were playing. "Those are Kenny, Katjaa and Kenny Jr., but we call him Duck."

"Duck?" Rick recited, with a perplexed face.

"Like water off a duck's back, right?" Shane said with a chuckle. "You probably won't come across Daryl anytime soon, he's out there hunting. He usually spends days missing, searching for game. There's also Doug, but he's a reserved guy. Likes to toy with contraptions he makes up himself. I think he's in the RV."

Shane, Rick, Lori and Carl departed in one direction, leaving Lee and Clementine alone. Around them, the people Shane had introduced them were doing productive things. "How do you like the camp Clementine?" Lee asked the little girl.

"It's nice." She shyly commented.

**A/N: Now that Lee and Rick have reached the Atlanta camp, things gonna get heated the next few chapters. Be sure to tune in and find out what happens next!**


	10. The Camp

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 10 – The Camp**

**A/N: 'Sup guys! Hope you've been enjoying the fanfic so far and thanks for sticking around up to this point. I've been having a lot of fun writing this and it's awesome to have y'all around on the road trip!**

"Oh my! Are you the new arrival?"

Lee frowned in surprise and gracefully spun around at the voice of a woman, as Clementine shyly imitated him. Lee saw a bulky woman on the sides, with short blonde hair with a hand stamped on her chest. Probably Donna. Two young boys were her chaperons. Both of them wore red shirts, and had trimmed blondish hair. They were probably the twins, Billy and Ben.

"Yes, ma'am. My name is Lee." Lee said with a certain timidity himself too.

"Oh, it's a delight. I'm Donna, and these are my little ones, Billy and Ben." She presented the two 'hellions', pointing her arm at each one of them. The tiny boys had the same reaction as any other infant; hiding behind their mother's legs. "I've just heard that Rick was reunited with his family. Did you know him before all this mess?"

"Actually, no." Lee explained, now feeling a bit more at ease with all the hospitality. "He found me in the hospital. From there, we went along all the way here."

"Well, it's great you guys are here." She sighed in happiness, before she dropped her chin and spotted Clementine. "And you have a lil' girl with you!"

"Yes, but…she's not my daughter." Lee elaborated. Donna was struck with a perplexed expression. "She's Clementine. I found her alone in her house. I'm taking care of her until we find her parents."

"Well, Clementine, like the camp so far?" Donna inquired, bending to her height.

"Yes…" She vaguely sputtered.

"It's good to know. Well, I'm gonna leave you now. See you two around." Donna said her goodbyes, before she departed with Ben and Billy.

"Hey…so the name is Lee?"

Lee once again turned around, and came across the hillbilly he had seen before. Indeed, he had the aspect of one. Dusty ball cap, epic mustache and long mullet. His hands and dark green shirt were stained with oil.

"It is. This here's Clementine. But she's not my daughter. Just taking care of her while her parents are absent." Lee stated, before the redneck would ask the question everyone was asking him.

"I'm Kenny." Kenny lent a hand to Lee, which the latter hesitantly shook. He beamed his finger near Lori where a buff woman was stretching laundry and over a hill where a boy played with other kids. "That's my family. Katjaa and Duck. It's great to have ya here. We don't usually get walkers, but sometimes we need a guy who can…knock a couple heads together."

"I guess." Lee shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around. If ya ever need anythin', come to me." Kenny asserted, before leaving the scene.

"I'll keep that in mind." Lee chuckled, as Kenny began to fade away.

* * *

Night time had fast arrived. In the meanwhile, Lee and Clem hadn't done anything special, except strolling around, enjoying the view of the sunset. Rick and Lori were catching up near a camp fire, while Lee and Clementine were eating beans, butted against the RV and sitting in wooden stools.

"Do you like it here, Clementine?" Lee questioned, after swallowing a spoon of beans.

"People are nice." Clementine admitted, setting down her empty and dirty can.

"They are…" Lee concurred, regarding the obscure horizon. "So…mind telling me your…story? Where you been all along?"

"I lived in a house near where I found you." Clementine told Lee. "There was a treehouse. I brought a lot of food and I stayed up there for days."

"You did good." Lee cracked a smile, raising his eyebrows. "It's smart…up there, the walkers can't get you."

"But then I ran outta food. And I had to get out. That's when I heard you scream…" Clementine finished her story as quickly as she started it, since Lee already knew the rest.

"Well, that's…impressive." Lee complimented, not knowing what other word to use. "A girl like you, surviving by herself...but what happened to your parents?"

"They're in Savannah, I think." Clementine described. "They went on a trip and left me with a babysitter. They still haven't returned."

Lee internally screeched. If her parents were in Savannah and hadn't come back…chances were they were dead. And him now having to look after a child…he could only imagine the things that could go wrong. He never had a son or daughter, so parenting was out of his field.

"So, uh…I'm gonna take care of you, okay? Until they come up, okay?" Lee confirmed, receiving a positive noise and nod from the girl.

* * *

Sitting near a warm fire in a cold night, having Lori resting on his shoulder and Carl sleeping inside a tent, Rick Grimes couldn't be happier. Rick was contemplating his finger, enclosed with a wedding ring Lori had kept and given to him.

"Is he asleep?" Rick enquired.

"Yeah, finally." Lori assented.

"I'm so glad you saved this for me." Rick rose his arm, to illuminate the ring with the bright fire and admire it better. "I felt naked without it."

"He can't sleep anymore unless he knows I'm right next to him." Lori elucidated with concern. "Never really had to slip away from him like that…I usually just lie there and look at him. He's…"

"You've been through a lot." Rick soothed his wife.

"Yeah…I'm sorry we left you…" Lori excused herself, with a low tone since almost everyone was asleep.

"Lori, please." Rick said, passing a arm behind her neck. "I understand the circumstances. "You thought Atlanta would be safer for Carl. I would've done the same thing."

"They said people were gonna stay at the hospital when they evacuated us." Lori confessed, cuddled with her husband's shoulder. "From what you told me…they must've abandoned the hospital less than a week after we left."

"You did what was right for little Carl." Rick enounced. "I'm just glad Shane was around to help you get here."

"I don't think I would've even found the way down here without him. Let alone survive." Lori confessed, before she let out a small gasp. "Your hand!"

Rick peeped at his palm, and saw that a bandage was wrapped around it. "That's just from the IV. It's nothing."

"Oh."

Rick l0oked around a bit, gazing at the darkness around them. Until his eyes crossed a shadow that stood on top of the RV. From his guess, it was Shane. "Is he enough up there?"

"So far that's all we've needed." Lori confirmed, looking at the camper. "Luckily those things haven't come at us in any numbers. Most we've had was three. Truth is…none of us really sleep anymore. Soon as we hear the shots, we're up and ready to defend the place. We've only got a few guns…Shane's pistol and Dale's rifle and a few others…but we got shovels around the camp to hit 'em with. It's been enough for now. They don't come here very often."

There was silence. Grasshoppers were making their usual intermittent noise. The fire whizzed and sent sparks in the air. Lori then started feeling Rick shaking, from head to toe. "Rick, you're…shaking."

"The past two days…I've been so worried about finding you and Carl and getting here in one piece…" Rick elaborated, his voice trembling too. "I haven't had time to be scared…"

* * *

Shane was reclined on top of the RV. Keeping watch was important to make sure everybody was safe, especially during the night in which it's hard to spot walkers.

But Shane wasn't planning on sleeping. Inside his body, a wave of feelings stormed him. There were the good ones, of joy because his partner Rick was back, and those of envy and rage…because now he couldn't be with Lori.

A cool breeze swept by, dissipating his thoughts. He gazed in the distance, and saw a fire burning. Burning too high. Beside it Ed was sitting, along with his intimated wife Carol and daughter Sophia. What the hell was that guy thinking?! The smoke could attract an entire herd to his location.

Shane decided to take action. He tossed the sniper rifle behind him, which automatically was saddled on his back. He scooted over to the ladder and climbed down, the metal echoing with each step. A few intrigued camp members, who didn't manage to sleep, were discreetly peeking at Shane, wondering what he was gonna do.

Shane walked carefully toward Ed, dodging the tents, buckets, burnt-out pits, anything that got in his way. Just as he arrived, Ed shoved a log into the fire, sending crisps of fire into the air.

"Hey, uh, Ed…you might wanna rethink that." Shane adverted, ripping out his hat out of his head, and twitching his fingers with his other hand. "Some people are tryin' to sleep, and every biter for miles can see the fire."

"It's cold man." Ed lazily said. Sophia and Carol were sleeping in a sleeping bag next to him, trying to at least.

"Cold don't change the rules." Shane affirmed with a mutter. Now more members were awakening, complaining with groans from the noise and the light. "We gotta keep our fires as embers, so they don't see us from a distance."

"I said it's cold." Ed insisted, now with a more hostile voice. "Mind ya own business for once."

"Really wanna have this conversation?" Shane said as softly as he could, but he was feeling a fury developing inside him.

"Fine. Go on. Put it out." Ed finally gave the green light.

Shane was merciless. He wielded his thick boots and stomped on the fire multiple times, pulling sticks and twigs apart to put out the fire. After a few good kicks, the fire was just as small as the light of a glow-worm.

"I thank you for the cooperation." Shane falsely thanked, before he turned his head to Sophia and Carol. "How are y'all this evening?"

"Fine." Carol spoke flatly like a robot. "Sorry about the fire."

"No, no, no. No apology needed." Shane disclosed with a fake smile. "Y'all have a good night now."

He turned around and departed, feeling a tingly feeling of having done something right. But he was still thinking about Rick and Lori, and he just hoped Lori wouldn't tell anything to him.

* * *

It was probably only around six o'clock, but the sun was already getting up, sending sunshine all over the land and dressing the sky in pink nuances. And the group was already getting up, along with our heroes.

Lee woke up inside his tent; the first thing he saw was the green fabric above his face. And the first thing he noticed was the ache.

"Ow." Lee groaned as he slowly got up, his back screaming and cracking in agony.

He looked to his side and noted that Clementine was still slumbering. He thought it was best to leave her alone; she had gone through quite the adventure back in Atlanta. Lee got in a squatting position and wriggled his way out of the tent.

He saw Glenn a few feet away from him, with his arms crossed. He paced over to him, taking a quick glance to verify that Clementine was still inside the tent resting.

Lee stopped by Glenn who was moping. "Look at 'em." He instructed with a sad voice.

The Challenger Lee had driven was in front of them, surrounded by people who were tearing it apart. A car-jack sustained the vehicle in the air. Morales was just about unscrewing one of the tires, Dale was siphoning the remaining gasoline with a red container and a hose, Jim was doing something on the engine with his wrench and another guy, who Lee supposed was Doug, was rummaging through a pile of spare parts the others didn't need.

"Vultures." Glenn disapproved, shaking his head. "Yeah, go on, strip it clean." Glenn encouraged, albeit he was pissed off at them.

"Cars need every drop of fuel they can get. Sorry Glenn." Dale apologized, patting Glenn on the back before leaving the scene.

"Don't be sad Glenn." Doug talked, picking up a loose screw and then tossing it back on the pile. "A few of these parts are all I need. Then I'll be able to build an alarm system that warn us for walkers. Ain't it cool?!" He demanded with an excited voice.

"Yeah, yeah." Glenn sarcastically assented. "Thought I'd at least be able to drive it ONCE before they took it apart."

"It's okay Glenn. Maybe we'll steal another someday." Lee consoled him, before his stomach growled in hunger.

He marched towards the RV and stepped inside. The inside was arranged as well as anything could be nowadays. The multiple cabinets were tidied and the only thing messy was a coffee mug near the sink. And by the looks of it, Carley was eating a can of veggies while Dale was storing things in a closet.

"Oh, uh…didn't expect to find anyone here." Lee awkwardly acknowledged.

"Have you eaten breakfast? Take a seat." Carley invited, pointing at a stack of other canned food beside her.

"Oh, uh, okay." Lee said, as he sat in the opposite chair from Carley. From all of the canned goodies, he picked a spoon and a can of beans. Those were his favorite. "Thanks, uh, a lot for taking us in. Atlanta was a giant shit storm."

"No problem. If you hadn't arrived, we wouldn't have gotten those pills for Larry. I can't imagine how PISSED he would've been." Carley giggled. "So…that little girl, Clementine. What do you plan to do with her?"

"Take care of her." Lee granted, halting the spoon of beans that was being sent in the direction of his mouth. "Her parents are in Savannah. I'm worried that they…might not have made it. But what other choice do I have?"

"Well, she's in good hands." Carley subtly complimented. "I'm not worried. You handle yourself well, and she's relatively safe with you. You'll manage."

"Thanks." Lee grinned.

* * *

On the other side of the camp site, Rick was waking up too. He was stretching out in the tent, and through the open 'door' he could see Lori awakening too bit by bit; however Carl was still hard-sleeping.

"Morning, partner." Shane greeted, giving a nudge to his hat.

"Hey man…I thought you'd still be asleep. You kept watch most of the night, didn't you?" Rick observed.

"Glenn took over about half-way through…" Shane explained, jabbing his thumb at behind him. "But I don't sleep much anyway. Go and go see Dale in the RV. He's gathering a buncha fuel for the cars. He'll give ya a rifle."

"A rifle? Why?" Rick catechized with a wiggly eyebrow.

"We goin' huntin', partner!" Shane enthusiastically said, like two old men remembering the good ol' times.

"Oh, okay." Rick nodded, before he brushed past Shane over to the RV.

He climbed onto the camper. "Oh, hello."

"Good morning Rick." Lee accosted, twisting his torso around in his chair to look at Rick.

"Settling in okay?" Carley challenged, as if in completing Lee's phrase.

"Yeah, thanks for asking. I was wondering, Dale, if I could borrow a rifle from ya." Rick pondered, as Dale closed the closet and stared at Rick.

"Yeah, of course. In the cabinet there." Dale indicated, aiming at a cabinet right next to Rick.

"Thanks." Rick said. He looked to his left and opened the wooden door of the cabinet Dale had shown him. Inside, he saw a long and sturdy sniper rifle, along with a box of ammo. Rick seized the two objects, slinging the rifle on his back and hauling the box by hand.

He waltzed out of the RV and looked at Lori, who was carrying a cardbox full of clothes. She was laughing with Shane, who had his shotgun lingering on his shoulder.

"You ready? We gotta get goin' if we gon' catch anythin'." Shane quizzed, preparing his gun.

"Ready when you are." Rick asserted. Rick volunteered to carry Lori's box, but she refused.

"I'll take these hon'."

"Scrub 'em up real good." Rick joked with her. "They're a bit funky."

"Uh-huh…don't you have some animals you have to shoot?" Lori interrogated, as Shane offered Rick his sheriff hat with long wings and a star stamped on the middle.

"That's the plan. Love you." Rick said as he donned the hat. Shane and Rick spun around and departed for the forest.

"I love you too. Be careful." Lori adverted.

Lori walked in the opposite direction, the weight tugging her arms down, before she came across Carl. "Carl! Where're you going?"

"I'm gonna play with Billy and Ben, mommy!" Carl declared, apparently very ecstatic. "Why doesn't Sophia ever play?"

"Ed doesn't let her. And don't go insisting if he doesn't let her, okay?" Lori cautioned with preoccupation. She bowed down and gripped her son by his stuffed cheeks. "I'm gonna go wash clothes with Donna, Lilly and Carol. Don't go out of Dale's nor Allen's sight. If they tell you to go in the RV, you do it!"

"Okay, momma."

"Don't worry." Donna intervened, carrying a bundle of clothes along with Carol. "Amy and Andrea are gonna watch the kids. Anything to get outta laundry duty…"

"You're damn right!" Amy spoke, being way more relaxed and funnier than when she was worried sick by her sister.

"Not in front of the kids." Donna reprehended, her smile fading.

"Oh, bite me!" Amy retorted. "Stay safe."

"Always." Lori asserted, as the women departed.

Lilly, who was just about joining the girls, was interrupted by her father Larry. She hated doing laundry, but it was important nonetheless. "Lilith, you're not really plannin' on going out there, are you?" Her father stopped her, his calm voice showing a slight entanglement.

"Dad, it's Lilly. And I'm just going down by the creek." Lilly soothed Larry, passing a hand on his arm. "We won't take long. Allen's keeping watch, he'll keep an eye on us. And we'll be careful." Lilly turned around, before she halted. "And don't get nervous or angry. Don't forget to take your pills."

"Okay, Lilly. Be safe." Larry told her, now being defeated.

**A/N: BRACE YOURSELVES! CARLEE IS COMING!**


	11. Save Private T-Dog

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 11 – Save Private T-Dog**

**A/N: I know I've been VERY late on updates, I'M SORRY! I had a few issues and I've been busy. I know it's a bit late, but happy Christmas and good 2015!**

Lilly, along with Donna, Lori and Carol who never participated on the group's conversation because Ed kept a tight leash on her, were walking towards the river. They all carried boxes and bundles of clothes, that were smelly and in need of cleaning. Behind them, the RV along with the rest of the camp began disappearing the further they marched inside the forest.

"I can't wait to see how these clothes smell with the new detergent Glenn got from the city!" Lori exclaimed, breaking the silence.

"Jesus, Lori, listen to yourself." Lilly admonished with an annoyed tone. "Excited to try out a new detergent? Bullshit."

"Geez, Lilly, we're not throwing a party." Lori said, gazing at her. Even though Carol was present, she was latent and didn't interfere in the conversation. "I'm just looking forward to the possibility of clean smelling clothes. That'd be a welcome change at this point."

"Lilly's right." Donna agreed in a snarky tone. "I don't understand why we're the ones doing laundry while they go out and hunt. When things get back to normal I wonder if we'll still be allowed to vote?"

"Are you serious?" Lori inquired with a giggle, elevating an eyebrow.

"It's true." Lilly backed her up. "I'm damn fit to shoot a gun as any other man in that camp, but we're the ones stuck with this job."

"Maybe you can, but I can't shoot a gun." Lori confessed with a smile. "I've never even tried. To be honest…I would trust any of these guys to wash my clothes. Rick couldn't do it with a washing machine. He'd be lost out here. This isn't about women's rights. It's about being realistic and doing what needs to be done."

"Whatever." Donna dissed as the women finally arrived at the lake.

**. . . **

Meanwhile, somewhere in Atlanta's forest, Rick and Shane were hunting. They were each equipped with powerful rifles. They trekked through the woods as they talked, careful not to rustle too much.

"I thought I'd take Lori and Carl down here to her parents and come back." Shane complained, hoping over a log. "I thought this would be over in a week. I didn't want to explain stolen guns to the captain."

"Well…if you had seen the place the way I did, you wouldn't have been so worried about the rules." Rick replied. "I don't think it'll ever be the same."

"Don't say that man. This won't last." Shane said, trying to keep positive.

"I dunno man…it looked bad." He elaborated, sounding concerned.

"Well, I'm glad you brought these guns." Shane told him, changing the subject. He turned his head swiftly, searching for game. "We just had Dale's rifle and my sidearm. Someone had to keep watch with the rifle at all times…and it's hard as hell to hunt with a pistol. Just about everything we've had to eat was canned goods Glenn got from the city."

"Speakin' of which, I was thinkin' about taking some people into the city later." Rick proposed, which stamped a look of dazedness across Shane's face. "We can't leave that poor man chained to the roof."

"What?" Shane contradicted along with a frown. "Look, I don't mean to sound cold, but it's been a day since he's been there. 24 hours. You know the chance he's till alive?"

"Slim. I know. But we can't-"

Suddenly, they heard the sound of a stick crackling. Shane brought a finger to his lips and made a hissing noise. They marched in the direction of the sound, which was between the trees right in front of them.

Creeping up behind some bushes, they silently gasped when they found out what it was. A walker – wearing glasses, white shirt and tie – was on its knees, munching a decapitated deer. What was the most disgusting was the enormous pool of blood, stretching from its bloody neck all over to the zombie's torso.

"It doesn't know we're here…" Rick whispered to his friend.

"Do you think we should get the deer from it?" Shane inquired, their mumbles muffling the noise of teeth eviscerating meat. "It'd be safe to eat?"

"I'm not…" Rick was cut off when an arrow flew through the air.

They didn't even have time to react when a projectile, small, shaped like a rod and sharp like a blade penetrated the air and pierced the walker's skull. Rick and Shane gasped again and took a step back, as a few drops of blood splashed onto their faces.

Then, the shooter of the arrow appeared and moved toward them. He was a bulky man, with tough muscles and wielding a crossbow.

Daryl Dixon.

**. . . **

"You don't have to constantly keep watch!" Lori told Lilly, who was standing up near the creek while the other women scrubbed clothes in the water. "They're not that fast. A quick glance in every direction oughta do it."

"I'm just being thorough." Lilly said calm but firmly, before joining the other women. "Y'know, perhaps we should talk to Carley. She never does laundry duty with us."

"She said that she wasn't too good at it." Lilly confessed with a grin. "She said that before she didn't even have time to wash clothes."

"That's a buncha bull, but enough with the yappin'. So, entertain us Lilly…any boyfriends? You never really told us anything 'bout your life." Donna asked curiously.

"Me?" Lilly repeated, somewhat shocked and surprised, caught off guard by the question. "I wouldn't want to bore you to death."

"C'mon, I could use a really good nap." Donna retorted with intonation.

"Well, I uh…" Lilly began, clearing her throat and trying to organize the words on her mind. "I used to work at Robin's Air Force Base."

"Wow." Donna blurted out in bewilderment, raising her eyebrows. "That's great! I doubt any of us ever had a really exciting job."

"It's not the way you imagine." Lilly said. "I dealt with shitheads and bureaucrats all day. I only like, rarely drove a plane or did anything like that."

"I stand by my point." Donna affirmed, moaning before deciding to change the subject. "What about love life? I kinda expected a woman at your age to already be married and have kids. I was about your age when I first had Ben."

"I…" Lilly spoke, almost tripping over her own words. He gulped and cleared her gorge again. "I never had any boyfriends in college or anything. Closest I came to a relationship was with this guy named Brad."

"Mmh…continue."

"We, uh…liked each other. But when my mom died, my father needed more attention due to his disease. We drifted apart until we got separated." She talked in a sad tone, like they had touched a weak spot. "But that's all you need to know."

There was an awkward silence. You could see from the glow in Lilly's eyes that that certain subject was thin ice to tread. Donna, Lori and Carol were finishing packing up the laundered clothes.

"Let's go back to camp." Donna stated in a bossy tone.

Everybody got up, each one carrying a variety of soaked garments, as they marched back towards the small agglomeration of people, through the obscure forest.

Unfortunately they didn't see the African-American walker lurking through the trees, who darted his head towards the women when he listened to them.

**. . .**

"You filthy cock-sucking motherfucker!" Daryl screamed, as he kicked his killed zombie in the head, which lashed black blood, teeth and chunks of rotten skin into the air.

Shane and Rick viewed as Daryl kept raining kicks down on the lurker's skull, spitting profanities and splashing gore on the men's feet. Rick looked away, but Shane was a bit uncomfortable. He had to tell a man with a short temper that they'd leave his brother back in Atlanta.

Daryl finally halted, having released all of his anger. He panted heavily, before facing Shane and Rick. "Who's the new guy?"

"He's Rick. He was my partner back in Atlanta." Shane introduced him, exhibiting a firm hand in his direction.

"Hello, sir." Rick greeted.

Daryl glared back at the dead creature. He expectorated in disgust at it, before he removed the arrow from its abused skull. "Fuckin' weasel. I've been chasin' this deer here fo' hours! And then this son a' bitch comes along and mauls ma prey!"

"Daryl, it's okay." Shane declared, essaying to take his mind off the lost food. "We gotta…"

"Don't touch me!" Daryl spat, slapping his hand away. He started trekking, stepping on sticks and rocks as he headed towards the camp. Shane gave Rick an adverting peek, warning him of his temper.

"Hey, yo, Merle!" Daryl yelled, arriving at the camp. "I got us some squirrel. Buncha of 'em! Come help me skin these bastards." He ordered. No response. "Merle, get your junkie ass out here!"

"Daryl. We need to talk. About your brother." Shane claimed, ripping his hat off his head and toying with it.

Daryl's expression became dead serious. He twirled around and peeped right into Shane's eyes, approximating him in a form of intimidation. "What do you mean?!"

Shane placed a protective hand on the archer redneck's chest. "Calm down. Your brother, he left T-Dog behind at Atlanta. Even fired at Glenn and the raid party." He elaborated, Daryl's breathing getting angrier. A few people noticed the conversation, and stopped their activities to watch the imminent brawl. "So…we left him behind."

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Daryl demanded in a loud holler, sending drops of spit onto Shane's face.

"What's going on here?" Lee stepped forward, emerging from the RV and catching the redneck's attention. Daryl also seemed to notice Clementine at his side.

"We're tellin' Daryl about his brother." Rick explained, adjusting his belt and glaring at Daryl. "And by the looks of it, he ain't taking it well."

"Oh, so you bring all these new hillbillies to camp, but won't bother to bring back my bro?!" Daryl blared, turning around and looking at the crowd.

"Jesus, Daryl. He shot at our own folks." Mark said, from on top of the RV with his sniper rifle slung. "We could've murdered someone!"

"Enough guys." Carley voiced, taking a step forward. "All this arguing isn't gonna help! It's only bound to get attention to us."

"You son of a bitch!" Daryl insulted, as he swung a punch at Rick.

Rick, being used to this kind of thing, dodged swiftly. Lee already knew what he should do; he told Clem to stay in the RV as he intervened. Shane was pushed backwards from Daryl's push, and just in time he noticed Daryl unsheathing a knife.

"Daryl, no!" Shane shouted.

Lee entered the battlefield. Seeing the knife brought bad memories; that day in which he was stabbed, nearly losing his life. But just because he had the monotonous job of a History teacher, that didn't mean he had the bravery to interfere when necessary.

Albeit he still wasn't trained when it came to melee combat. He tried to stop Daryl, but the response was when Daryl swooped the blade again and scraped Lee's arm, slashing the tissue and cutting his skin. Ed smoked a cigarette a few meters away, apparently enjoying the fight. "Fuck!" Lee sputtered in pain as he covered the wound, which began spilling trails of blood.

Mark did a face palm. He hated when there were disputes among the group. Not that there were many; most of them being due to Ed's attitude. The fight continued near the RV, most of the group witnessing in despair the battle, with Lee only helping when he was danger-free and Shane and Rick handling most of the situation with their special training. Even Allen was stepping in, wanting to use his cumbersome stature to break them apart. He essayed to separate them, but sometimes he also had to recoil; sometimes always being diced by Daryl's knife.

But then Mark detected some movement out of the corner of his eye. He rose his head and twitched his head to the side. In the horizon, Donna and the three women were walking back towards camp. Although the distance made it a bit hard to see a clear picture of their faces, it was obvious that they were dumbstruck since they had no idea what the fight was about.

He also noticed the oozing zombie stalking them.

Mark leaped from the RV onto the ground, almost spraining an ankle in the process. He looked back at the group; everyone was too busy on the fight to notice it. It was his time to act.

"Hey!" He roared, his eyes peeled like a shell-less crab, and his hand wrapped around his mouth, like he was using it like a megaphone. "Watch out!"

The women glanced past their shoulders, realizing in horror the nearby threat. Lori, Lilly and Carol all dropped the thing they hauled, and began sprinting in random directions. Donna was the only one who stayed frozen in her place, her hands in front of her visage as the walker staggered towards her.

"No!"

Mark rose his rifle in an instinct, assembling it with the stock against his shoulder. He stared down the scope, having a clear shot. He was a bit fearful; only it took was a teensy movement for the bullet to go through Donna's skull. But he had to risk it.

He pressed the trigger. The noise blared through the camp, the four wrestlers halting their battle like they had become statues. The people in the crowd spun around in their heels, gazing terrified at the biter that had been put down, and whose brains were currently gliding through the air.

"Donna!" Allen quickly forgot about his task, and started speeding down toward Donna.

"It…it…" Donna sputtered, being on her knees. Allen slid on the ground, dirtying his jeans with dirt and grass, and hugged his wife in a comforting manner. Mark chased him and stopped near the lurker he had murdered. "I couldn't…I couldn't…it…thank you Mark…he would've killed me…"

"Ssh, ssh…it's okay." Allen consoled her, stroking her hair. He glanced at Mark. "Thanks. You saved my wife."

"Yeah…you're welcome." Mark said while panting. He wiped a wave of sweat of his forehead and then strapped his rifle onto his back.

Back in the fight, Rick and Shane snapped out of their sleepwalk. Shane tackled Daryl, who also awakened and grunted as he fell on the ground along with Shane. Rick snatched the knife, and ripped it out of his hand.

Lee walked towards the site, Clementine lagging behind him. "Don't look sweet pea."

"Jeez! Is everyone alright!?" Doug demanded in an extremely preoccupied way, scratching his head violently, almost ripping it off.

"Yeah. I think everyone made it safe." Mark reassured him.

"Lori!" Rick yelled, placing the weapon back into his belt.

He ran like a raging bull towards Lori, who had collapsed onto her knees and was sobbing rivers of tears. Rick tossed his gun on the floor and clutched her; his wife responding by latching onto him. "It came outta the woods!" She cried, sniffing. "Tried to kill us. It almost got Donna, but Mark managed to shoot it in time. Oh Rick, it was awful!"

"Goddammit! I fuckin' trusted in you to keep an eye over my daughter!" Larry intervened with his angriest tone ever, his face becoming red as tomatoes. He hugged his daughter, who was shaking but didn't cry. "My Lilly could've died!"

"Dad, calm down!" Lilly ordered. "It wasn't anybody's fault. If anything, Mark saved us."

"Yeah, give it a rest." Amy concurred in a snarky way. Larry knew that once again he was just the town fool, so he kept quiet.

"Let's get this thing into the woods and outta the way." Allen spoke.

In the next few seconds, Allen and Dale gripped the walker's wrists and started dragging the cadaver towards the treeline. The camp instantly became a zone of people hugging, saying sentimental words of comfort and recovering from the trauma.

"Everything's alright now, hon'." Rick reasserted a now smiling Lori with a loving hug, with little Carl joining in on the family activity.

"Is everything now safe, Lee?" Clementine asked worriedly to her mentor.

"Yeah…of course." Lee said. But in reality, his mind was afloat.

A few meters away from where the Grimes family were doing a family hug, Shane stood still. Lee was gawking him. He had his eyes narrowed, throwing a sharp look at the family with his stubbly and worn out face.

And that glance he was giving to Lori gave Lee goose bumps. That look, something was strange about it. He didn't know why, but his gut feeling was burning.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter (although it came a bit late). Also, thanks for sticking around for this long and on a side note, now that I look back on it, Daryl was kind of an asshole back in Season 1.**


	12. Rescue Mission

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 12 – Rescue Mission**

Life continues.

Ever since the incident, everything has soothed down, or it seems to at least. Even though there are no walkers around; and the person that was on watch was internuncial to warn the settlers of their presence, everybody was more wary and paranoid than ever in their tents amid the dingy night.

Shane was keeping watch, lulling a cold-steeled shotgun on his lap. The sky was crystal clear, showing a panorama of stars and shiny constellations.

"Psst."

Shane jumped on his seat and spat the toothpick he carried on his mouth when he heard that mysterious sizzle. He began hyperventilating and wrapped his big hands around the massive weapon. He turned his head and saw Rick climbing the RV sneakily.

"Jesus, man!" Shane reprehended, trying to keep his voice low as his heart beat faster. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry." Rick apologized with a naughty smile, vaulting next to Shane. "I was just trying to get up here and not wake anyone up."

"Well, next time throw a rock at me or something." Shane advised, his breath turning into a cloud. "You scared me half to death. Especially after what happened earlier today."

"Yeah…that's actually what I came here to talk to you about." Rick confessed.

"Oh?"

"We need to move camp." Rick stated with a more serious and austere expression. His words struck Shane in the face like the latter had been punched. "It's not smart to be close to a city full of those things. It's just too goddamn dangerous."

"Are you crazy?!" Shane sputtered lowly, stiffening his eyebrows. "What happens when the government starts cleaning this mess up? They'll have to start with the cities. They'll find us faster if we stay here."

"When are they coming Shane?" Rick rhetorically asked. "Tomorrow? Next week? It's getting really goddamn cold out here and it's only gonna get worse. Not to mention what happened yesterday. It's too risky to stay so goddamn close to them."

"It's too risky to go anywhere else!" Shane reciprocated. "The fires are keeping us warm. There's plenty of firewood in this area. We'll be fine. This is the best place to wait for rescue."

"What makes you so sure we'll even be rescued?!" Rick demanded, trying to get through Shane's thick skull. "Donna almost died yesterday. What if it was one of the kids? What if it was Carl? Nobody was prepared for this Shane. You think those girls know how to fight?" Rick placed a hand on Shane's shoulder, to get through to his soft side. "If we go someplace safer, maybe we won't need to be rescued so soon. I'd rather have a good night's rest now and then than siting up at night, hoping the government is still intact and searching for us."

"No, dammit!" Shane screamed in a mutter, slapping off Rick's hand. Rick looked quizzically at the man's attitude. "We're staying right here!" He dictated. "We're safe HERE! Yesterday is one of the few isolated incidents. This is the safest place to be. Rick…we can protect these people. We'll be rescued here. If we go hide in the country it could take them months to find us. We've gotta stay here."

"Okay…if you feel certain that it's the best thing for us…fine." Rick coldly assented, merely due to the lack of options. "But if we're going to try and hold out here, we're gonna need more guns. If Donna had been carrying one yesterday she could've just turned around and shot that thing. Everyone here is gonna need to carry a gun at all times."

"How're we gonna find enough guns?" Shane enquired with a worried frown.

"Dunno. I'll figure something out." Rick said, before releasing a long sigh. "Also, it was really hard to keep Daryl calm after earlier. He's saying that he's going out to search for his brother at first light."

"So?"

"I'm going with him." Shane opened his mouth to say something, but Rick cut him off. "No. It was my fault we left T-Dog behind. I should've know that Merle would gain the upper hand on him. I also talked to Lee. He agreed on coming."

"Look, I already know you're not gonna stop." Shane told him. "But be careful. I don't want anyone to die and lower the group's morale as it already is. And look out for Daryl, he almost knifed us yesterday."

* * *

After last night's conversation, Daryl kept his promise. As soon as the sun erupted, he had awakened and was ready to go out there, with his sharpened knife and mighty crossbow.

Lee kneeled near Clementine, who was still sleeping in her bedroll. He had told Rick that he would tag along with them, since he also felt guilty for leaving T-Dog behind and couldn't leave him to the walkers. He wielded his revolver, that was hidden in his belt for protection. He felt like keeping his hands busy could take his mind off the grief over his wife.

He crawled out of the tent, and as he stood up he saw Carley with her arms folded. "Promise to keep an eye on her?" Lee asked her, spotting the van being loaded with some supplies by Rick, Daryl and Glenn. Apparently the Korean kid was also coming along.

"Of course, Lee. Don't sweat it." Carley reassured him, peaking at the tent. "Promise to be back in one piece?"

"Yeah." Lee nodded with a forced smile. "Don't plan on getting mauled today."

Rick put a small bag on the back of the truck, before he turned over to Glenn. The Asian man already had his backpack hanging in case they got the opportunity for supplies and his pizza themed hat. "Hey Glenn. Do you happen to know about any gun stores around here?"

"No, but I never really go that far into the city. Why do you ask?" Glenn inquired with a narrowed eyebrow.

"Well, I was thinking…" Rick elucidated. "If everyone was herded into the cities for protection there wouldn't have been much looting if everything was being organized by the government. And when everything went to shit…no one would've had the time to break into one of those. Them places are barred up, locked up tight. Nobody could've gotten in without being eaten and killed."

"That does make a whole lot of sense." Glenn concurred, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know exactly where we can find a gun store, but I know someone who knows."

Glenn looked around him, twitching his neck, searching for someone. His target was finally acquired, and he started walking towards Jim, who was sitting by a put-out fire while feasting on a can of beans. Rick followed him.

"Hey Jim!" Glenn hollered. "You gotta help us out man! Do you remember any gun stores around in the edge of the city?"

"Gun stores?" Jim mumbled, swallowing another spoon of beans. He remained silent for a few seconds, thinking of a possible answer. "Corner of Pleasant and 38th Street."

"Thanks Jim. I've got a map in my car, be right back." Glenn denounced, before he twirled around and walked over to his car.

Meanwhile, as Rick waited and kicked some dirt, he removed his Colt Python and checked the ammo. He let out a frustrated sigh when he saw an empty revolver.

"Gonna need help with that." Shane spoke out of nowhere, catching Rick's attention. He dug into a duffel bag he carried with his right hand, before he fished out four bullets and gave them to Rick.

"You and that bag…like the bottom of an old lady's purse." Rick joked, loading the bullets onto the Python. "Thanks. Where did you get these?"

"Remember that day we went to the shooting range?" Shane quizzed. Rick answered with an almost imperceptible nod. "Yeah, I accidentally took some of your rounds. Look, Rick, are you sure you wanna go through with this? It's gonna be a hell of a danger. I even think Lori and Carl are coming to shout at you."

"Don't worry Shane. I'll be able to handle Lori." Rick reasserted him with a pat. "I'll be fine. I'm going with Daryl, Lee and Glenn. We'll protect each other."

Shane nodded respectfully, before he spotted Lori arriving with Carl at the scene, and she didn't seem to be in the happiest of moods. Knowing this was his cue to leave, Shane departed without a word.

"What the hell Rick?" Lori demanded, approaching Rick with a furious expression. "You've only just arrived and you're going out again?!"

"Lori, I have to." Rick told her in a smooth manner. "Trust me, if I had the choice I'd stay here. But I'm doing this for all of us. I'm gonna go save T-Dog, and perhaps even get a buncha guns for us. Think about it, Donna almost died yesterday. People will be safer this way."

"But I don't want to have to worry about you again!" Lori complained, now having a more sorrowful face.

"Daddy, please don't go." Carl pleaded.

"Don't worry pal." Rick messed around with Carl's hair, jerking a smile. "I'll be back before you know it. I'm doing this so all of us can be safer. When I came back, I'll even teach you how to shoot a gun! You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I guess." Carl shrugged.

"No way!" Lori contradicted, going back to her angry attitude and moving her hand in a negative motion. "He's too young to shoot a gun."

"We'll argue about that when I get back." Rick concluded their dispute. "You won't even notice I'm gone. How many times do you think Glenn has come and gone safely?"

"I just don't understand why you gotta go. Why can't he just go with Dixon and Lee?" Lori questioned with an arm fold like an angry child.

"There're gonna be a lotta guns to carry." Rick smirked at her obvious question, before he closed in and kissed her on the neck. "Plus, what if T-Dog needs to be hauled back? He came across a guy who isn't lifted so easy."

"Got it!" Glenn exclaimed, raising the map in the air like a triumphant flag.

"Be careful." Lori adverted, letting go of her man.

"Of course, hon'. I'll be fine. I love you."

"I love you too." She said in a rather flat way.

"C'mon you buncha slowpokes!" Daryl shouted at the top of his lungs, almost awaking half the camp that was still asleep. "I ain't here to babysit a buncha old ladies!"

"Geez, man, would you keep it down?!" Lee berated, while Daryl just seemed to be astir. "Just let Rick say goodbye to his family."

"Hey Lee." Lee spun around when he saw Mark standing there, with a Glock 17 hidden in his belt. "Mind if I tag along?"

"I, uh…you wanna come with us?" Lee repeated in amazement, to make sure Mark wasn't delusional.

"Yeah. T-Dog was a nice guy, he was my friend." Mark admitted. "And I just gotta go back for him. Plus, an extra pair of eyes is gonna be useful for y'all, especially in a city like Atlanta."

"If you wanna come along, I won't stop you." Lee said. "But be warned: I saw first-hand how Atlanta is. If it weren't for Glenn, I would've died inside this huge horde of walkers I saw. It's risky. And I can't promise all of us coming back alive."

"I'm sure Lee." Mark convinced.

"Alright. Hop on." Lee told him, as Mark dived onto the back of the box van, while Daryl was impatiently waiting in the driver's seat. Lee headed for the passenger seat, while Rick and Glenn were joining them on the back.

"Mark, you're coming too?" Rick enquired as he shut the doors of the van from the inside.

"Yeah."

"Alright, folks, buckle up." Daryl warned, as he turned the keys on the engine, causing it to bark as loudly as an explosion.

"Okay, but remember Daryl. Our first priority is T-Dog. We're coming back if we can't find Merle." Lee warned him with a severe expression.

* * *

A few minutes after the rescue team was gone, the sky had become cloudier and greyer. Due to the bad weather, most people were staying inside their tents, the activity on the community died down.

Lori was isolated amid the trees, the humidity soaking the back of her neck and her silky hair. She cried into her arm, whilst leaning against a tree. Her thoughts ran a mile an hour, and the only thing that popped into her mind was 'Why did I cheat on Rick?! Why did I think he was dead?!'. Shane. Rick. Shane. Rick. Shane. Rick.

"Lori." Shane called out from behind the woman with an emotionless voice. Lori didn't respond, so Shane took a step further. "Lori, you shouldn't be out here…it's freezing and some biter might sneak up on you."

"Shane…just leave me alone…" Lori beseeched, muffled by her sleeve.

Shane could predict why she was like this. Seeing the person he most cared about like that made him both saddened and angry at himself. He approximated himself and posited his hand on her shoulder.

"Lori…" He whispered, but Lori pushed his hand away.

"No…Shane, let go of me…" She mumbled, her breath gasifying in the wet and frigorific air.

"Lori…what's wrong?" Shane enquired with pity and concern in his voice, like a hurt puppy.

"We can't…we can't do this anymore…" Lori affirmed, sniffling and wiping her nose. "Rick's back…I thought he was dead, you told me he was dead! What happened between us…can't go on…"

"But Lori…" Shane insisted, driven by an insane passion and a voice that became hoarse. "We had something unique…we had something special…don't you remember? That night at the side of the road? It was magical. The best day of our lives…"

"That night…" Lori said, before being interrupted by a lump in her throat that she gulped down. "That night, Shane…that night…was a mistake."

Shane was dumbstruck, those words breaking his heart at the same moment. He opened his tremble jaw to say something, but he choked on phrases, his thoughts too jumbled up. He shuttered his eyes for a second, before his expression became cold and blank. He lowered his head; the shadow of his hat covering his face; and he exited the scene.

* * *

After some time of driving the van into the city, the survivors inside it were a bit anxious, about whether or not T-Dog would be alive. Daryl was driving the truck recklessly, with Lee on the passenger and the rest of the crew behind, preparing themselves for a fight if necessary.

"So, guys." Glenn communicated loudly, to be heard past the noises of the rough road. "What's our first stop?"

"T-Dog, obviously." Lee expressed, glancing at Glenn from the rearview mirror. "The longer we wait, the slimmer his chances are."

"Yeah, actually agree with that." Daryl nodded in consent. "It's gotta be our main lead to him." Daryl said, before he began stepping on the brakes. "We oughta go on foot from here. Attracts less attention."

Mark got up, using the wall for balance, and rose the sliding door to the van, letting inside a wave of gloomy light. He hoped off the vehicle, with Rick and Glenn following, and the group of five men didn't waste no time to start jogging towards Everett's Prescriptions, where they had left their comrade.

* * *

While Shane was a bulky and strong man; having the physique of a bear; he also had a heart. And what Lori had told him had been enough to take a toll on him. Inside, he felt a sensation of fire, a latent weight that just made him resentful and enraged.

Just to think that a few days ago his life was at its best. He spent days laughing and playing with Carl, and the night interlaced with Lori. But then Rick showed up…

When he passed by a tree, that irate weight became too much for him to hold. He spun around in a quick and sloppy move and launched a punch at the tree along with a war cry. The contact made between the bark and his knuckles was painful enough for Shane to bent in two, clutching his hand and blowing on it.

"Fuck! Bitch, motherfucking cunt!" He sputtered angrily like the growl of a coyote, looking at his hand. The zone around his fingers and knuckles had quickly become red and he could sense some heat around the damaged area.

His head jerked when he heard a pitched scream, followed of a dry sound. He glimpsed at the camp, and saw Ed standing over Carol, who was crying and latching onto her hurt cheek.

Now it was an opportunity to release the beast within him.

Shane recomposed himself and marched towards Ed Peletier, with heavy and hulking steps like the ones of a colossus that made the Earth tremble. His breathing was out of control, becoming more regular and furious.

"ED! LET GO OF HER!" Shane yelled, so loud it could echo for miles.

Ed turned his head around. He didn't even had time to assimilate the silhouette of Shane, because the latter sent a fist raining on him.

The first impact collided with Ed's left cheek, itching Shane's hand due to his blotchy stubble. The unexpected blow made Ed fall onto the ground like a grown sapling cut down by a lumberjack.

Carol, who was still on the floor, cried even more upon seeing her husband being hurt. Shane kneeled down on top of Ed, sitting down on his filled gut. He threw another punch at his right jaw; for a brief moment hearing the rattle of broken teeth inside his mouth. Blood spewed out of his pie hole. Another jab clashed against his nose, cracking the bridge and twisting the edge of the nose in a macabre angle. By this time, Ed had received so much damage that he was probably lights-out.

Shane stopped for a brief moment, panting, as all of the fury had been release. He looked up, and saw Lori, viewing the brawl in shock. There was an oppressing silence, the only sound being Carol sobbing near her husband's body. Shane stood up, mopping some loose saliva from his chin, before he walked away from the survivors that were watching that he didn't even notice.

**A/N: I really liked enjoyed writing this chapter. I loved writing about Shane's insanity, along with that wicked fight scene. I think it turned out okay. This arc is gonna end soon, the next chapter being the penultimate and the one afterwards the final. Thanks for reading, peace!**


	13. Two Edged Stick

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 13 – Two Edged Stick**

As they sprinted at a light pace, the rescue team's eyes were fixed on the pharmacy Everett's Prescriptions. The weather was still bleak, a grey blanket involving the globe. The single sight of the store his family owned made Lee nauseous and the best he could do was focus on the task at hand. The landscape was free of walkers for the moment; leaving the desolated and crumbled buildings, the wrecked cars melting into fallen electricity poles, gliding fliers and leaflets to be the sole inhabitants of Atlanta.

Reaching the door, Mark and Rick stood each by one of its sides. Lee and Glenn hunkered onto an offensive stance, in case a flood of zombies stormed them. Daryl immediately loaded an arrow onto his crossbow, and proceeded to raise it in the air with his firm muscles and revolving the door handle.

They took a peek inside, waiting for their eyes to get used to the darkness inside. The pharmacy hadn't changed much. The already looted shelves only ported things that had no longer use – shampoos, deodorants and perfumes -, the scene was vacant, lacking any type of life except for two female walkers storming around in the middle of the room. One of them wore a torn night robe, its griminess matched her filthy blond hair. The other one was older; her face scarred with both wounds from her time as a lurker and with wriggles.

"Ugly ass bitch." Daryl mumbled, when he shot an agile arrow into the blonde walker.

Its body collapsed on the floor heavy as a meat bag, just as the old lady noticed the living beings. Mark ran inside, broke one of its knees with a just kick along, crackling with a satisfying sound, and then stomped the zombie's head, splashing brains like a stomped watermelon and its skull flat as an empty tire.

"Clear. Where is he?" Mark asked, wiping his bloodied boot on the tile floor.

"Up there." Lee indicated, pointing his finger at the door on the side of the box-shaped drug store.

"Then come on! Merle might be stuck up there too." Daryl ordered, dashing towards the door.

He burst through the entrance, entering the massive and obscure stairway. He began pacing on top of the stairs that resembled spiraling piano keys, towards the roof. The rest of the group followed in a hurry, in the order of Lee, Mark, Rick and Glenn. All of them were now extremely anxious, anything could be waiting for them up there. The only sound in the echoing tower-like stairwell was their automatic footsteps and their heavy breathing.

* * *

"Jesus H Christ." Kenny grumbled, looking at the beaten up Ed and Carol who was sobbing for a lost cause.

"Shane really hit him hard…" Doug sadly commented, with an awkward face. In the same moment, Lori departed to parts unknown. "Should we like…help him?"

"To be honest…I think we should leave his sorry ass out here." Larry sighed, placing his hands on his hips.

"It's definitely what he deserves." Jacqui voiced in a cold tone, accompanied by a barren face.

"Larry, Jacqui, that's not right." Katjaa scolded with a judgmental tone. "I'll apply some bandages and disinfectant on him. But I'm gonna need help to drag him back to his tent."

"I'll help you." Allen came forward with a step, raising his hand. "Donna, take the kids inside. Kenny, Jim, Doug, I'm gonna need a lotta help to carry him."

The four enlisted men approached Ed, and each one of them grabbed a limb, Doug having more difficulty due to his scrawny muscles. They tried to lift him, but Carol was clinging onto his shirt.

"Carol, let them take him." Morales soothed, putting his Hispanic hand on her shoulder. "He'll be better inside his tent."

Reluctantly, Carol let go of him, and Jacqui, Andrea and Amy consoled her, as the men hauled Ed back to his tent and Katjaa followed them closely.

* * *

Daryl tackled the roof's metal door with his shoulder like a NFL player. The group of four were all stunned by the sudden difference of light, and they all gazed around them to try and discover T-Dog's fate.

They spotted a black man slumped against the pipe.

"T-Dog! T-Dog!" Mark worriedly called out.

"Ssh! You're gonna bring attention to us." Glenn adverted.

Lee jogged towards T-Dog, leaping over the three steps of stairs and another pipe in the way. Approaching the body, he saw the person intended. But he didn't show any signs of life, was drowning in sweat and he saw a pool of blood erupting from his wrist, that seemed to be half cut. What was more surprising was when he saw three cadavers of walkers surrounding them, but all of them were dead. Not undead, dead dead.

"T-Dog!" Lee said as he kneeled near the man and shook his shoulder. At first there wasn't no reaction. Lee gripped his armpits and pulled him upwards, to put him in a sitting position.

His eyes opened in a thin gap.

"L-Lee?" He asked, in a low, dry and hoarse voice.

"Yeah…yeah, it's me." Lee confirmed, as he glanced back at the group. "He's dehydrated beyond oblivion. Anyone got any water?!"

"No! We didn't bring anything." Rick told him, squatting near T-Dog.

"Man…man…they were…they…were so many…" He said, before he was forced to cough abruptly twice. Rick pulled out a pair of bolt-cutters he had borrowed from Dale and encased their blades around the cuffs.

"You seen Merle?!" Daryl inquired, regarding each corner of the roof but not seeing his brother.

"You mean that…that redneck, racist, hick motherfucka?" T-Dog teased. "No. I ain't seen his skinny…ass."

"Don't you talk about him that way!" Daryl menaced as he prepared to punch T-Dog, but Glenn intervened.

"C'mon, now's not the time." Glenn communicated with a certain dread, putting a friendly hand on his chest.

"Don't touch me, Chinese kid!" Daryl spat, slapping his palm away.

"I'm Korean." Glenn stated.

"Whatever." He hissed, twirling around and gazing at the landscape of a destroyed monopole.

"What happened to your hand?!" Glenn demanded with concern. The hand that chained Theodore to the pipe was half-severed, with blood gushing out and a rusty hacksaw on the ground.

"I…I tried to…tried to cut my hand…didn't work…I…had to…take out the walkers. Tough, but…" He explained, with a feeble smile. "I wasted every…single…son of a bitch."

"Don't worry. We're gonna get you back to camp." Rick reassured him, in a swift motion breaking apart the handcuffs.

"What about Merle?!" Daryl quizzed with impatience and frustration.

"If we don't find him on the way, we're going back without him!" Rick affirmed with disgust for that man known as Merle Dixon. "If you won't come with us, you're welcome to stay behind and search for him."

Mark and Lee wrapped T-Dog's arms around their necks, and then stood up to carry him. The group headed towards the door, wanting to get back as fast as possible.

* * *

"Where the fuck is our van?!" Daryl yelled.

After a fifteen minute jog – which tired everyone out and T-Dog seemed to be blacked out -, the group had reached their vehicle. At least, where they'd left it. They all stood, dumbstruck, looking at the empty space their truck once occupied.

"We left it right there! Right freaking there!" Mark declared, facepalming himself.

"Who could've taken it?" Glenn enquired into the air.

"Merle." Lee guessed in a hard and severe manner.

Daryl lowered his head as he was struck by sudden realization. "Merle's gonna be takin' vengeance back on the camp."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Mark questioned him, his voice exhibiting that he was becoming a nervous wreck.

"Camp's gonna be attacked." Rick elucidated. "We gotta hurry!"

**. . .**

The interior of Ed's tent, which contained him, Carol, Sophia and Carol, wasn't a pretty sight. Ed laid on a mattress, boiling with anger on the inside and passive-aggressive on the outside. His right eye was swallowed and the area around the pupil was red, his temple and cheeks were mottled with yellow and purple bruises.

Katjaa tried to apply a bandage on him, but Ed whacked the hand away. "Geez, Ed, stay still!"

"Stop, woman! I'm fine!" Ed shouted. As he opened his mouth, a putrid breath reeking of alcohol and cigarettes penetrated the women's nostrils.

"Ed, sweetie, let her…" Carol essayed to convince him.

"No! Shut up! I didn't ask you anything." Ed hollered at her.

"Whatever. Bye, Ed." Katjaa concluded with a sigh, before he crawled out of the tent and zipping the tent closed behind her.

Carol exhaled. "Why don't you come out with everybody?"

"Hell with them people." Ed dissed in a muffled whisper. "Wouldn't piss on them if their heads were on fire."

Sophia got up and headed towards the exit, but Ed gripped her wrist. "Hey." Sophia spun around with an expression of fear stamped on her. "Why don't you stay here? Keep daddy company."

Carol gaped at Sophia and then glared at her husband. "Ed, she wants to join in." Carol tugged Sophia's sleeve toward the exit. "C'mon."

"Fine! To hell with both of you!" He hissed, reclining on his cot with sore bones. "Ain't no need to be bothering me no more for the rest of the night!"

* * *

It had been perhaps a couple hours ever since Ed's family had left him, he could note it from the obscurity outside. Ed was effervescing with ager, fury, and he swore to himself that when he was better the first thing he would do was take a swig of whiskey, break Shane's face and punch Carol in the face. Perhaps slap Sophia too.

Then, he heard some rustle outside. _Motherfuckin' cunt, I told them to leave me the fuck alone! _"Hey!" He screamed. "Get the fuck outta here! I don't wanna be disturbed."

But the noise persisted, until he spotted the person's shadow outside the tent. "I told you…leave me the fuck alone!"

Ed wriggled his way towards the door, and unzipped it. Fatal mistake. When he recognized who it was, it was too late. The female zombie standing outside, took advantage of Ed who was too dazzled to do anything, and lunged at him. She started distributing bites all over the crying Ed, slowly devouring him.

* * *

After the sunset was starting to emerge, the group was gathered around a fire, sharing a good meal. Morales had gloated about his new invention: a wall of rocks around the fireplace to keep the flames high but invisible to walkers.

"Seriously, Dale, thank God you have all this cooking equipment." Kenny praised, chewing a chunk of meat. "I don't know how we'd cook without it."

"I never leave home without my stuff. Never know when something might be useful out on the open road." Dale clarified with a smile.

"That reminds me, it's been like two weeks since we've been survivin' together, but I still don't know a damned thing about you folks." Kenny gave a speech. "Like you Dale. You just travelled?"

"Pretty much." Dale disclosed, as everybody heard cautiously. "I was a salesman for forty years, spent my days behind a desk and a phone. Eventually, I retired, and my wife and I bought a camper and went out to see America. We'd been on the road for two years when everything started. We were at a campsite about eighty miles south from here, coming back from Florida. The news hit us late, we didn't know a darn thing about what was happening. My wife…she never left that campsite."

"Oh my God, Dale…I'm so sorry…" Katjaa sorrowfully mourned.

Dale sighed and gazed at the grass. "After I buried her, I headed towards Atlanta. Had a couple of cousins there and they said it was the safest place nearby. Of course, when I got there the place had already been blocked off and the army was still trying to fight the hordes on the inside. I ended up here. On the way to Atlanta I found Andrea and Amy broke down, out of gas. I gave them a ride."

"Andrea was driving me back to college." Amy interrupted. "Classes were starting in a few days. I was a physical education major…a junior. As far away as I have lived, I just should've flown back but we always enjoyed our bonding trips."

"I was a clerk at a law firm." Andrea expounded. "That job is one of the few things I don't miss."

"Mechanic." Was the singled word that escaped Jim's mouth.

"I was a shoe salesman." Allen spoke, Billy being his lap and Ben on Donna's lap, although the survivors couldn't tell the difference. "I ran a store in the mall. It wasn't anything special but it paid the bills…well, most of them anyway. We lived up in Gainesville, it's about fifty miles from here. Just like everyone else here, we came into Atlanta a little late."

"Glenn, Dale, and the girls already had set up camp when we got here." Donna participated in the conversation. "Our car broke down the way and we walked here…piece of junk never worked."

The group stared at Shane, who was curled eating his meal quietly. "Y'all know me." Shane grunted in a grumpy voice. "Small town cop, friend of Rick."

"Well, I...I worked as an IT technician." Doug confessed, scratching his hair. "I did a lot of tech stuff there. If you guys gave me a TV remote, I could probably interact with any TV out there. A few months back, I came here to live with my uncle. When everything starting going down, I met Carley along the way, and we hiked all the way here." Doug swallowed a hunk of food. "Sure miss my robots…"

"Yeah. Before, I was a reporter." Carley talked loudly, setting her vacant plate on the floor next to her.

"Y'know, I think I saw you on TV once." Amy observed with a narrowed, curious eyebrow.

"Maybe." Carley chuckled, before continuing. "Anyways, I actually saw a buncha war-zones before. I went all over, voyaging where ever the latest news called me. One day, me and my production crew were covering the Cherry Blossom Festival. That's when shit hit the fan. I…I saw my boss get eaten in front of me. She was an asshole, but…you know. I would've been zombie chow if it weren't for Doug who came to the rescue."

Doug blushed. "C'mon. It was nothing."

"Me and my dad actually lived in Atlanta." Lilly told the group, creating murmurs and awes. "My dad has his heart condition, and I lived across the street in case he had a crisis. I worked at Robin Air Force Base. It wasn't all action-packed as you all might think. It was actually pretty monotonous. Me and my dad had just bought pills for him when everything went to chaos. The military was harboring people then, but we called bullshit on it, and decided to hide in the country side instead. I don't regret it. After a couple days we stumbled across this place."

"I worked in the city's zoning department." Jacqui disclosed. "When the walkers came, me and my two brothers met and we got the hell out of Atlanta. It was easy to orient, I know every inch of that darned city. My two brothers got…" Jacqui cleared her throat. "They got…mauled in front of me. I was holed up when Glenn found me on one of his scavenging runs and escorted be back here."

"When all of it started, it was actually just an ordinary day." Morales revealed, swallowing his food before starting his backstory. "I worked as a civil construction employee. Miranda stayed at home. We were having dinner after my kids, Louis and Eliza, got home. We started hearing gunshots and moaning and stuff. When I figured out what was happening, we immediately hoped in the station wagon and drove into the woods. I found this place when there weren't even tents set up."

"Well, you guys know me." Kenny conveyed with his bulky voice, him being the last remaining story-teller. "I'm your typical man from Florida. I fished for a living. Mackerel, snapper, you name it. One time, I had an octopus that was sick and I took it to the vet. There I met Katjaa. She fixed up the octopus back to its healthiest state. My family and I visited Kat's sister who lived in Memphis, and we were getting back home when everything went to shit. Were lucky as hell to find this place."

There was a long silence after his tale, in which the only noises were the crisps of the fire and the cricket's chant.

"Well…" Amy broke the ice, as he rose on her feet whilst her knee bones cracked. "I gotta go pee."

Amy brushed past all of the used plastic plates and the people, as she ambled towards the RV. "Anyone need anything while I'm at -"

Without warning, a walker appeared from behind the RV, devastating the calm ambience of the night. This one was entirely bald, wore a sleeveless t-shirt and striped pants. He lurked from behind Amy, and embraced its claws around her arms. He opened his jaws out wide, and bit Amy viciously on her shoulder. She let out an alarming and deafening scream, before the walker tossed his head backwards and ripped off a huge chunk of her flesh, so big that the bone was nearly showing.

"AMY, NO!" Andrea shouted, as she dived onto her feet and sprinted towards her sister.

The next second, chaos instilled itself among the survivors. In the horizon, they could see the lingering shadows of an imminent horde, dragging themselves towards them. Allen and Donna clutched their kids in their arms to protect them. Jim was the first who pulled out a wrench and bashed in the head of the closest lurker.

"Watch out! Incoming!" Jim alerted the camp.

Morales bowed with his chest and picked up a baseball bat from the ground. He then walked towards the frontlines of the battle and collided his weapon with a male biter's cranium. The head was separated from its spinal cord, causing its head to fly a few feet away like Morales had made a homerun.

Lilly gasped when she spotted a zombie creeping its way towards her father. Her brain ran a mile, and the only solution she saw was to grasp the knife she had utilized to eat and faced the undead being. She stabbed in the head, and was surprised how easy it was to penetrate its rotten noggin. It was soft as a banana.

"Katjaa! Get Duck somewhere safe!" Kenny ordered to his wife.

"Andrea!" Dale called out.

Seeing that Andrea and Amy were in trouble, Dale arranged his rifle for shooting, and ran towards the nearly twin girls as fast as his old skeleton could take him.

"She…she…she" Andrea stuttered, kneeled over the fountain of gore that was now her sister.

Dale scooted by her side and covered the hole of the wound with his massive hands. But it didn't take him long to realize that Amy's life had already vanished away. "She's gone Andrea." Dale asserted in a sad tone. He slid his hand around her neck and let her cry into his shoulder.

"Fuck!" Jim shouted as a walker managed to drape its dead fingers around his elbow.

But out of nowhere, a saving bullet slashed the air and went through the zombie's skull. Its inanimate corpse collapsed on the floor, and its blood was splattered on Jim's shirt. He barely had time to breathe before he acknowledged Lee's group coming to save the day.

Kenny, who was so distracted with Lee's arrival, didn't even notice the sneaky zombie that was about to ambush his wife and son. "Thank God they're here!"

"KENNY!"

Kenny spun around in pure fear, when he felt a goose bump and sensed his whole body frozen. He saw his wife and kid, both pinned down to the floor by a walker wearing a highschool jacket.

"No!" Kenny hollered, as he dashed towards his family. Although somewhere deep in his mind, he knew he would arrive too late.

However, a gunshot erupted through the air, piercing the zombie's skull and throwing its dead body to the side.

"My God Kat! You okay?!" Kenny asked as he helped his family up. The two people didn't respond; too scared and with an enormous lump in their throat.

Lee appeared, his Glock 17's barrel smoking. "Get your family somewhere safe, Kenny!"

"My God, Lee…thank you so much." He thanked, latching onto his family with a hug. "I'll never forget this."

Lee watched as Kenny departed with his family to someplace safe. He turned around, to see if there was someone else in need of aid, and what he saw would change him forever.

To his left, Doug was being pushed by walker towards a tree. His hands were gripping the walker's face, essaying to keep its teeth distant from Doug's face. His girly screams and arm shaking showed that he wasn't going to hold much longer.

To Lee's right, Carley had fallen. She was being clenched by the ankle by the dead palm of a walker, and she was trying to crawl towards a gun, that was posited just a few centimeters away from her fingers.

Lee rose his gun in front of him. It was the time to make a choice. This decisive moment would be based on whether he aimed to the left or to the right.

**[SAVE DOUG] **or **[SAVE CARLEY]**

**A/N: Decision time! Who will survive? You decide! Well guys, the next chapter will be the end of this arc. I await eagerly for your decision and I'll see y'all in the next chapter.**


	14. EPISODE 1 FINALE - Let The Credits Roll

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 13 – Let The Credits Roll**

**80% of readers chose to save Carley**

**20% of readers chose to save Doug**

Lee sensed the articulations of his arm moving to the right. He didn't feel like he was himself; he felt his trigger finger being remotely controlled like he was a robot.

The notch of his gun aligned with the rotten skull of the zombie that was attacking Carley. He wasn't sure if he was going to hit. After all, he had never shot a gun before and he knew that guns had a strong knockback. Taking a leap of faith, he pressed the trigger.

The gun barked and Lee felt his hearing being cleaved by an arrow. His ears became instantly deaf and the muzzle nearly blinded him. He bent in two and grunted, as he clouted one of his ears with his palm and let the revolver slide down his fingers and fall onto the ground. Gradually, he rose his head, and was more than happy to see that the walker had died, and Carley was now picking up her weapon and standing up.

He jogged towards the woman, his head seemed to whirl around in a dazzling manner like a merry-go-round. "Where is Clementine?! Have you seen her?!"

"I think…I think she went back to your tent!" Carley stated, panting.

Lee looked back at Glenn and Mark. "Get T-Dog somewhere safe!"

Carley peeked around her, surveying the zone for nearby lurkers when her eye-sight locked on the horizon. "Doug!"

Lee turned around, the dread slowly instilling itself down his spine. It was only more intensified by the fact he could barely hear his own voice from the pulsatile ringing in his brain. Ten meters away, Doug was starting to give in and the zombie's teeth were nearing his neck.

"I GOT HIM!" Jim intervened.

Wrench equipped, the old mechanic stepped in, bashing a kick into the zombie that was attacking Doug. If it were alive, it would've probably passed out, because the strength had been enough to break all of its ribs.

The biter slumped on the ground with a loud thud. Jim hoped on top of it quickly, and elevated his wrench in the air. He clashed the metal tool against its jaw, completely obliterating it and sending it flying in the air like a boomerang. A cluster of black goo spilled onto Jim's marked and elderly face, onto his balding hair and his shirt drenched in sweat.

"My family! MY FAMILY!" Jim cried, applying more strikes onto the zombie's face. Doug stood, teary eyed, against the tree and viewing with tremble legs as Jim beat the walker up. "YOU KILLED THEM!"

Shane cocked once again his powerful shotgun, detaching a smoking shell into the air. He looked around in the chaos around him, and spotted a walker heading for Carol, who was curled into a ball and latching onto Sophia. He aimed at it and fired a devastating round, that destroyed its skull cleanly. It fell to the side, its cranium turned into a bowl of brains and bleeding arteries tainting the beryl grass.

Dale shook Andrea's shoulder, making sure no walkers were bound to get them. "C'mon, let's go inside! It's a mess out here." But his words were to no avail as Andrea was frozen in place.

Lee wiped the sweat off his forehead, seeing Doug was safe and sound. But he had a more urgent quest. He ran towards the multitude of tents, heading toward his.

Just as he arrived, he perceived three walkers scratching the tissue, shredding the tent to pieces to get inside. Among their grunting and moaning, he could listen to high-pitched screams emitting from the interior. He had to save Clementine; he had become fond of that little girl.

"Get off her!" Lee howled.

The lurkers ignored him and continued to wriggle their way inside. Lee searched around him for a melee weapon; wanting to spare his bullets. He paced towards another tent and removed one of the spikes holding it to the ground.

He sprinted towards the nearest walker, and with a war cry, he leaped onto it and bulldozed the spike into its brain. He went lights out like Lee had pressed a secret interrupter, but his action caught the attention of the other two. He lifted his right arm and shot between the eyes of the bald zombie, forgetting the pain of the recoil. He then swooped the spike in the direction of the second lurker, impaling the spike through its eye socket.

Lee squatted, as the two figures collapsed behind him after being slayed. Lee unzipped the entrance in a hurry.

A silhouette on the inside dived on top of him.

"Lee!" Clementine screeched, squeezing his neck.

"Hey, hey…" Lee replied with a wide smirk, returning the hug. He could almost ignore the animalistic sounds and the gunfire on the background that was starting to cease. "There, there…all's okay."

"I…I was so scared…" She sobbed. "There…there were so many of them…they just…came out of nowhere."

"Don't worry." Lee reasserted her, as he got up and clenched her hand. "Everything's fine now."

In the next second, a heavy silence crumpled among the survivors. They stood silent, enumerating their losses, contemplating the tide of fallen walkers. The only sounds were the smoke exiting the arsenal's barrels, heavy breathing and Andrea's crying.

Kenny placed a hand on Jim's shoulder, which caused him to stop smacking the zombie's skull, that was so triturated it resembled mashed potatoes. "It's over Jim." He sadly said.

"That…that monster…it killed my family…!" Jim told him, as he got up and cleaned the tears straining down his cheeks.

"Lori!" Rick called out.

Like the day they had met, Rick dashed madly towards his wife and clutched her and his son Carl in a tightened hug. "Rick! You…you saved us…I…I…"

"Ssh, shh…it's okay." Rick soothed her, stroking her ebony hair. "We found T-Dog. They're all dead. Everything's alright."

Mark and Glenn appeared in the scene, Mark nervously scratching his forearm. "We got T-Dog in the RV. Let him rest." Glenn awkwardly affirmed.

But in Rick's strong shoulder, Lori spotted something nobody did. Mark's sleeve was soaked in blood, drips of it pouring down of it. And in a quick glimpse, she saw a bite mark around his wrist. It looked like a circle of tiny cuts.

"Oh my God!" Lori gasped, catching everyone's attention and throwing all eyes towards Mark. "Mark! You've been bitten."

"What? What?" Mark inquired, his forehead sweating violently as his voice stuttered. "It's…it's not true! It's just a scratch!"

"Then show us!" Jacqui ordered.

The frightened crowd gazed at Mark in fear and in a strong anxiety. Mark gulped, he was out of options. He stared at his feet as he felt terrified to the point he almost lost control of his bladder. When he pulled up his sleeve, he revealed his wrist, that had been almost totally ripped off and was bleeding heavily. Mark shook and became pale from the blood loss, the cold temperature and the shock.

"S-see? J-just a scratch?" Mark stammered.

* * *

The next day wasn't a happy one. The precipitation of snow had gotten worse, the land being painted in a thick layer of ice. Morales, Allen and Jim had a lot of difficulty in digging the necessary graves, which were used for Ed and Amy. The only people that gathered around Ed's grave were Carol and Sophia, who didn't even cry no more. The rest of the group, however, mourned over Amy. Especially Andrea, who was kneeled right next to the cross in which her name was written. She had stopped crying, but she was closed in herself and her eyes were red like tomatoes.

It was even worst whenever someone looked at Mark. He had become paler and trembled all the time. His injury had been nursed with a rag, but they all knew that he was done for. The families, such as Lee and Clementine (they could be considered as family) shared a blanket to keep themselves warmer. The wind blew like it was whistling.

Even T-Dog had found the strength to come.

"She always had something to say." Shane spoke, his breath converting into vapor. "That's one thing I loved about Amy. When we were all shook up…or too preoccupied…she said something. She made us laugh. Lightened up the mood. No matter what. I…I wish she was here now."

"We may have not gotten along, but I loved her. I love everyone here." Donna now expressed, hugging her kids and her husband. "We all lean on each other, need each other. This is hard on us all, but she seemed to take it in stride. We could all learn something from her."

"She was a pretty girl. Smart too." Jim said in a kind way. "She shoulda been going to college…living her life…being young…being happy…this should've never have happened…she didn't deserve this…nobody deserves this."

All eyes fell upon Jim, who had finished his speech and regarded the ground in grief. Morales and his family did a quiet prier. "_En nombre del Padre, del Hijo , del Espíritu Santo_. Amen." Morales blessed.

"Amen." Everybody chanted.

"She came into my life at a time I was ready to die." Dale added, standing close to Andrea. "I'll never be able to thank her. She gave me the will to live."

"We'll all miss her. Let her soul rest in peace." Rick voiced this time around.

One by one, the different members of the group began turning around, marching back to camp in their desperate situation. Rick halted when he saw Andrea was staying back and not coming along. "Andrea?"

His call had no response. He decided that perhaps it was best to let her say her proper goodbyes. Before leaving, Daryl approached the grave and tossed a flower on it.

"Hey Lee. Got a sec'?" Carley quizzed Lee.

Lee pulled Clementine closer to him for warmth, like they were penguins. "Yeah. What's up?"

"Back when the walkers attacked…me and Doug…we were both in trouble." She muttered. "You picked me. Why?"

Lee stayed silent for a few seconds. "I didn't pick you. It was an instinct. I was gonna save you both. Thankfully Jim arrived in time."

"But you helped me first." She recalled.

"I did."

"I just think it'd be best if you checked on Doug." She advised. "Make sure he's taking it well and if he's on good terms with you."

"I will. Thanks, Carley." He thanked.

"You're welcome." She flatly said.

"C'mon, let's go back. Are you okay?" Lee enquired, gaping down at Clementine's small figure.

"I liked Amy." She whispered briefly.

"So did I, Clem. But don't worry. I won't let the same happen to you." Lee reassured her.

* * *

"Are you okay? Do you need more blankets?" Katjaa asked Mark, who was cuddled in his cot inside his tent. His eyes had developed signs of fatigue, he was drowning in sweat and his voice was feeble.

"No, no…I'm fine…" Mark murmured in a dragged breath.

"This should cool your face a little." Katjaa said as she deposited a wet rag on Mark's forehead.

"Thanks…" He muttered, barely cracking a grin. "One of the pilots back at Robin's…first guy I saw turn. When he was attacked, he turned within a few hours. No one survives past a day…not after being bitten…"

"Maybe you're lucky…" Katjaa tried to comfort him, although she felt extremely pessimist. "Maybe you won't turn. Nobody knows anything for sure."

"Yeah…" Mark sarcastically maintained, sparing his forces.

Katjaa headed towards the exit in a crawl. "If you need anything, just give us a yell. Someone will come get me if I don't hear."

Katjaa got on her feet as she zipped the tent behind her. She compressed the scarf around her neck, and approached Lee, Kenny and Allen who waited outside.

"How is he hon'?" Kenny questioned, taking a step forward.

"Worse." She affirmed.

Lee sighed, squeezing his nose bridge in frustration. "How much time has he?"

"If what Dale said about his wife was true, he hasn't got long to live." Katjaa conjectured with a sorrowful expression. "He told us his wife turned in half a day. Mark's going through the same, but it's taking longer. He says his whole body is freezing, but if you touch him you'll burn your hand!"

"You did all you could Katjaa…" Kenny lowly encouraged, pulling her in for a hug.

"I'm gonna go relieve Morales." Allen told Lee, turning around and strolling toward the RV. "Morales' been keeping watch for a while."

Kenny gradually detached from Katjaa. "Go on and check on Duck. I'll be right behind you."

Katjaa twirled in the opposite direction, and departed towards the set of tents, stepping on the snowflakes that crunched with each step. Kenny smiled as he watched her, before he paced towards Lee and lent him a hand.

"I never properly thanked you for saving my family." Kenny elaborated. Lee arched his arm and shook Kenny's hand with a firm grip.

"Think nothing of it." He modestly said. "We look out for each other, don't we?"

"We do." Kenny agreed with a nod, before his expression exchanged from friendly to a more funereal one. Lee know he was going to do or say something that would be shocking. "Look, Lee…back in that attack…you saved my family…they're breathing in this moment here because of you. Only that earns you a place on my book."

"A place on what?" Lee repeated in a confused tone. "I don't think I'm followin'."

"Look, I think it's pretty obvious, but our situation is very precarious here." Kenny elucidated, Lee frowning an eyebrow in anticipation. "This place ain't safe, and the military ain't rollin' through like Shane imagines. Nah, I've given up on that idea a while ago. We need to get off the mainland."

"Get to the point, Ken."

"If you want, you can leave with us." Kenny finally confessed. Lee rose his eyebrows in disbelief and waved the wriggles in his forehead. "We can head towards some city near water. Get a boat for us. It'll be safer for us to be on open water than out here. If you want, you can also bring Clementine with you. Perhaps someone else you care about."

"Look, Ken…don't get me wrong…but this is a bit too much for me to digest at the moment." Lee professed, passing a hand through his wooly hair.

Kenny was silent for a few seconds. "Of course. Think about it, sleep on it. But I can clearly see my family ain't safe here. I'm not sure if I want to stay for much longer. Make your mind up if you wanna join in."

* * *

Lee stormed inside the RV, having a purpose in mind. Kenny's proposal lingered in the back of his mind. In his perception, Kenny was an honest, hard-working, loyal man. To him it seemed he liked everyone in the camp. But he could recognize his wish to keep his family safe no matter what. And he knew that if he was making the decision to leave, it was for the well-being of his family.

"Doug? You here?" Lee catechized, shutting the door behind him. As he walked around the corner of the vintage RV, he spotted Doug reading a book on the table. He hoisted his nerdy eyes towards Lee.

"Oh Lee…" He greeted.

"I'm not interrupting your lecture, am I?" He asked, halting dead on his tracks.

"Oh no, absolutely not." He guaranteed in an embarrassed tone, dropping the book on the table. "I wasn't even concentrated enough to get past the first page."

Lee approached the chair parallel to him. "Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead." He sputtered, avoiding eye contact.

Lee dropped his ass on the chair. "So, Doug…how you holdin' up?"

"F-fine, I guess…" He alleged, in a lying and non-convincing voice. "It's…scary to think I nearly lost my life…y'know…like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel…"

"I know that feeling…" He concurred, his brains flushing with memories of when he fell off his horse in Atlanta and had been almost devoured by that horde if it hadn't been for Glenn.

"I just…feel bad for Mark. He's such a good guy." Doug admitted, scrubbing his eye.

"Me too." Lee nodded. "Look, Doug…I came here to talk to you. Yesterday, back in the attack, I was confronted with a difficult choice. To help Carley or you. I chose Carley, but not over preference or anything. It was merely an instinct, an impulse, a spur of the moment. I just wanna check that there are no hard-feelings."

"Yeah, don't worry. No hard-feelings." Doug mumbled. "Don't, uh…I actually preferred you picked her. I would've felt guilty if she had died."

"Okay. Well, Doug, I'm gonna go." Lee concluded, as he got up and patted Doug's shoulder. "Stay strong there, bud. We're here for you. I now gotta go meet up with Rick, Shane and Carl. A hunting trip awaits us."

* * *

After they were all equipped with rifles, Lee, Rick, Shane – accompanied by little apprentice Carl – they all headed into the woods. The foggy environment made it harder than usual to see animals, and they didn't have their hopes up.

"We're not having much luck, are we?" Lee groaned, scoping the trees for animals.

"We don't have to get as much as usual. Amy's dead and Mark's too sick to eat." Carl coldly specified.

"I know, Carl…I know…" Rick rumbled, wanting to change the subject.

"GODDAMMIT RICK!" Shane unexpectedly yelled, making Lee flinch a little. "It isn't my fuckin' fault!"

"Like hell it isn't!" Rick stepped right in front of Shane in a hostile manner, almost jabbing his finger up Shane's eyes. "I told you this was going to happen! We're not safe here! How many more people have to die before you realize that?!"

"Wow, guys, let's take a step back on…"

"If I thought we could survive on our own I'd take Carl and Lori and leave the rest of you here!" Rick hissed in Shane's face, muffling Lee's intervention. "We need to get outta here Shane! Let's siphon what little we have from them cars and put it into Dale's camper and go! Today! Right now! Let's just get away from the city, find someplace safe!"

"Think Rick!" Shane reciprocated, bolting his finger on his temple to illustrate his argument. "We'll be lost out there. The army is going to drive through here any day now with supplies and shelter and all this will just go away! I don't want to risk being out on the country! I don't want to risk being left behind!"

"What are you basing that on?!" Rick demanded. Lee paced forward to essay to stop the discussion, but failed once again. "What indication do we have that we're not the only survivors?! What was that attack on the camp?! We know nothing about them! We're not safe."

Just when Rick finished arguing, Rick twitched his head around and saw Carl with his cheeks streaming of tears, escaping back to camp. "Carl!" He called him, before he chased him.

Lee sighed and buried his face in his palm. The group's tension was rising by the moment, and he was afraid that the contents under pressure could pop at any moment.

* * *

Lee returned back to camp. To be honest, he wasn't feeling so good. Not only because of the cold, but all of the bad things happening at the same time. The ambience around him was really phasing him.

"Lee!" Clementine exclaimed, approaching her guardian and clinging onto his hand.

"Hey there sweetie." He said without any emotion.

"Morales was looking for you." She informed him.

Lee nodded in comprehension. He strolled towards the RV, where he perceived Morales with his arms crossed, while Mark was being hauled by Jim and Daryl. "My God…he die?"

"No…" Morales professed, facing Lee. "He told us his last dying wish was for us to leave him leaned up against a tree."

"What?!"

"Yeah…we decided to do it, because…well, we couldn't deny the man his last wish." Morales disclosed.

"I'll talk to him." Lee clarified, before he peaked at Clementine. "Are you sure you want to see Mark? It might be a scary picture."

"It's okay."

With that answer, Lee penetrated Atlanta's niveous forest, where he saw Jim and Daryl positing Mark among the trees. "Mark. I've heard that you wanted to be left out here. Is that correct?"

"Please, Lee…I won't be talked out of it…" Mark beseeched, his skin paler than the snow and his voice almost imperceptible with the bad weather. "I just…want peace…for this to finish."

"Okay…" Lee stuttered, the lump in his throat began growing. He blinked heavily when he felt a tear falling down his cheek. "Thanks for everything Mark…goodbye…"

Lee and Clementine turned around and abandoned the scene. Jim soon followed, and Daryl threw at Mark a nod of pure respect. As Mark saw the three men depart, he looked towards the sky. And only then, as the snow froze his entire body, the infection turned his bones into glass, his eyeballs carrying tons of tears and the lump in his throat, he noticed how the sky was so beautiful. In its diamond and cyan nuances, hidden by the broad clouds.

He finally felt at peace.

* * *

_Grief never ends…but it changes. It's a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith. It's the price of love._

A few minutes later, little did the survivors know that utopia was going to break apart.

Rick stomped the snow on his way towards Shane. "We need to talk Shane."

"Talk about what?" He grunted, pretending to be a fool.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK?!"

That moment, those exact words, created a click inside Shane's mind. A snap. He was invaded by an array of emotions, that pierced his very heart. Grief, sorrow, jealousy, everything. Those feelings were the things that drove Shane's fist onto Rick's face.

Rick staggered backwards, as a trail of blood ejaculated out of his mouth. "IT WASN'T MY MOTHERFUCKIN' FAULT!" Shane howled, at the top of his lungs so loud the entire camp jumped in fright.

"You son of a bitch!" Lori insulted, as she scratched Shane's face with her sharp nails.

Shane screamed, as he took a few steps back and involved the two scratches with his palm. Lori approached Rick and held him in her arms. "Stay away from him!"

What the hell was he doing? Everybody was incredulously staring at him. Why didn't Lori love him? After all he had done for her and Carl…she was so ungrateful that it broke Shane's heart like he had been stabbed with a dagger. Now there was only an empty space inside him. An empty space and pure rage for Rick.

He behold the massive crowd. Dozens of acquainted faces looking at him like he was some kind of monster. The shame was too much, and a river of tears began blurting out of his eyes.

"Fuck this!" He clamored, as he spun around and thundered towards the woods.

Rick sighed, feeling the inside of his cranium full of tears. "Shane, wait!" He yelped, still having concern for his friend before he followed Shane. Lori collapsed onto her knees on the snow, sobbing heavily.

Carol, Donna and Katjaa came to her aid. "Lori, sweetie, what's wrong?" Donna inquired, trying to calm her down.

"What's happening to us…?" Lori rhetorically asked. "It's never going to be the same…just look at us…"

Rick brushed past all of the foliage, just as he was catching up to Shane. He could predict that his face was a terrible mess of tears and snot. "Shane! Stop! Stop!" Rick instructed loudly like a sergeant shouting orders to his soldiers.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" Shane hollered in an angry tone. Rick was beyond than shocked when Shane raised his rifle towards him like a madman. "You come to rip my heart right out of my chest!?"

"Shane, Jesus, what are you talking about?!" Rick demanded, putting his hands in the air and speaking in a more cautious tone. "Be careful with that thing!"

"GO AHEAD AND RIP IT OUT!" Shane conveyed, his large jaw opening out wide as he mouthed his phrases. He wrapped his fingers around the area of his heart. "I don't fucking need it anymore! Take it! TAKE IT!"

"Shane, can you…please just lower the gun?!" Rick pleaded, but Shane firmly kept the gun in place.

"Oh, you really did it for me buddy!" He blamed him, his volume scaring a batch of crows away. "Yes you did it! Oh, you really did it! I'M NOTHING NOW RICK! NOTHING! I'VE GOT NOTHING RICK! NO FRIENDS! NO FAMILY! NO RESPECT! NO FUCKING LIFE! THIS FUCKIN WORLD! THIS FUCKING GOD-FORSAKEN FUCKING WORLD OF SHIT! THERE'S NOTHING FOR ME RICK! NOTHING! I thought I could make it! I thought I could hold out until they rescued us…they would've brought us nice beds! Hot showers! Everything would then be okay! They were coming Rick!"

"We still are Shane! We're gonna be fine!" Rick assured him, always careful not to do any sudden moves.

"I can't live like this Rick!" Shane acknowledged, in his usual furious and pity tone. "I thought I could, but I can't! I thought I could…and I did. Everything was going so good. She would have come around eventually…I know it…she would have…" His voice was becoming calmer and more suave by the moment, but the gun still fiddling in his fingers.

"What?"

"Everything was so perfect…" Shane sobbed, hiccupping and sniffling. But his fury came back, and he tilted his gun again towards Rick. "Until you came back!"

"Shane, don't…please, don't do this…!" Rick begged, hoping that Shane would still have the humanity to not shoot him.

"No Rick! This is the only way!" Shane argued, readying himself to fire. "This is what has to happen…you weren't meant to came back…you weren't meant to live!"

A gunshot rang out. Rick flinched in his place, but then he noticed that he had not been shot. He twisted his head upwards, standing in his straight posture, and saw that a bullet had gone through Shane's neck. His eyelids opened to an erratic pattern, before he gurgled as he drowned in his own blood. Shane's dead body lost life as his spirit left his cadaver.

"Don't hurt my daddy again!" Carl roared with tears piling up in his eyes, as his Glock 17 had its barrel smoking.

Carl let go of the gun, and sprinted towards Rick. They locked each other in a very tight hug, as Shane's drenched corpse collided with the floor. "Oh son…"

"It's not like killing the dead ones, daddy…" Carl revealed, sniffing with the anguish of having murdered a living person.

"It never should be, son…it never should be…"

After Rick had finished that sentence, Lee came storming in, slowly assimilating the scene of what had happened. He stood, immobile in his place like a statue, with his jaw dropped and his eyelids extended. "Oh my God…"

* * *

**_NEXT TIME ON THE WALKING DEAD..._**

**.**

** "****Morgan." Rick spoke into his walkie-talkie. "I don't if you hear me out there. But if you still aren't dead…pay attention to what I'm about to say. Don't go to Atlanta. It was a lie. Place's overrun. Military's fallen. It's a death trap. My group and I are going away. We're heading towards the CDC. I wish you luck."**

* * *

**Everybody piled up inside their vehicles, Dale's RV being the one that was almost fully crammed. "Let's go guys. Don't look back." Lee told everyone, as the engines roared back to life.**

* * *

** "****Why did Shane do that?" Clementine asked.**

** "****It's complicated, sweet pea." Lee explained. "Shane had his motives. He thought that he had nothing to live for. The way he felt led him into making a mistake. It just happened to have cost his life."**

* * *

** "****We need to find food, Lee. Soon." Kenny warned.**

* * *

** "****Hi! I'm Andrew St. John, and this here is my brother Danny." The two strangers introduced themselves.**

* * *

** "****It's beautiful." Rick praised the landscape of the dairy.**

* * *

** "****You don't fuck with us!" A voice shouted from the woods, before arrows began raining on Lee and his comrade.**

* * *

** "****I'm pregnant Rick." Lori told her husband.**

* * *

** "****Oh shit!" Daryl hollered, facing the shocking revelation. He twirled around and ran back to the group in a hurry. He had to warn them.**

* * *

** "****Don't…eat…dinner…"**

* * *

** "****I'm opening those doors for you. You're grateful to me now. A day will come in which you won't."**

* * *

**The many members of the group were crouching behind improvised cover, as the incoming bandits poured a wave of bullets on top of them.**

** "****GIVE UP THIS PLACE OR YOU DIE!" The leader yelled.**

**Kenny shoved a rifle into Lee's arms. "Quick. Take this and cover our people. I'ma gon' start up the RV!"**

* * *

**THE WALKING DEAD**

**VOLUME/SEASON/EPISODE 2 – STARVED MILES**

**COMING SOON**

**A/N: So, guys, as you can see this arc of the story is concluded. I'm quite happy about how it turned out, and I hope you enjoyed it as well. I would like to thank all of you for your support, you guys have been awesome! There might be a break now for me to plan the rest, but I left you this trailer to keep you guys wondering. See you next time!**


	15. May We Meet Again

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 15 – May We Meet Again**

Rick was crouching, looking at the horizon. The landscape seemed all together a snow globe; the planet was covered in its usual bleak, crystal-clear ice layer. In the small hill in which he stood, he could see all of the members of the group, functioning in a babelism of packing bags and tossing them onto their vehicles, the whole a camp a monopoly of little ants preparing to migrate.

Rick neared his walkie-talkie close to his mouth. With his free hand – that wielded his wedding ring – he adjusted his fur coat that kept him sheltered from the wintry weather. He sighed a puff of smoke into the air, before he spoke into the device.

"Morgan." He said. His voice was reflective, suave, and there was a long paused between each word. "I have, uh…I'm startin' to think that…maybe you're not at that end anymore. I dunno. But in the case of, in some blind hope you pick this up, hear me through. Atlanta, it's a lie. A death trap. The army has fallen. They're not saving people. It's anarchy over here, each man for himself. Me and my group, we ain't staying here. If you want to meet with us, head towards the CDC. That's where we're going. Good luck, Morgan. May we meet again."

Rick took a deep breath, before he disconnected himself from the radio. He scrubbed with strength his tired eyes. He hadn't gotten sleep in days, ever since the incident with Shane. This new world…it was something more horrific than he could imagine. At first he thought that people would deal with it, eventually get used to the apocalypse. But the fact that his own best friend, Shane, tried to kill him because he was in mad love for Lori, it was more than enough evidence to prove Rick that this world changes people.

He couldn't trust anyone.

* * *

Lee erratically checked the barrel of his revolver. He popped out the cylinder to check the ammo, as his skin shook violently and his teeth battered against each other. When he spotted five out of six bullets on the inside, he set the weapon straight and ready to fire.

"Are you ready, Clem?" Lee muttered. It was too cold for him to speak normally.

Clem was sitting at the entrance of the camper, rummaging from her pink backpack. "I think I have everything."

"Get inside then." Lee instructed flatly, gazing at all of the people moving around from one place or another. "It's warmer inside."

Clem obeyed with an ahem and a nod, before she stormed inside the RV. Lee glanced at the small mounds of snowy dirt in the distance, harbored by an array of trees. He saw Rick, who was squatted and talking all alone into his walkie-talkie. Lee himself posed the same question now and then: how were Morgan and Duane doing? But he had so many things to think about that he didn't have the time nor the patience to dwell on it.

"Hey Lee." T-Dog greeted. He was limping, helping himself with a long stick he utilized as a cane. That imagery reminded of Lee's dad's cane, which he used to 'whoop shoplifters' as he put it.

"Hello T-Dog." Lee replied. "You comin' in the RV with us?"

"Yeah. Every other place is already taken." T-Dog implied, leaning against the camper.

"I suppose you were already told what happened yesterday?" Lee inquired, with an arched eyebrow.

"Yep." T-Dog assented, with a vapory exhale. "I still can't believe. Shane, he, uh…he pulled his weight around here. He hunted, protected us from walkers...it's just difficult to believe that he was the same person who drew on Rick."

"It's crazy, uh? This world, man…it does things to people." Lee observed in a savant manner. "We never saw it coming. We're in bigger shit than we imagined."

"Yeah, we are." T-Dog agreed, before he headed towards the door and opened it. "I'm a gonna get inside. Cold as all hell in here."

* * *

At the same time that everybody were packing their bags for the long trip awaiting them, Lori was the only one who hanged behind at Shane's grave. She was in a reserved stance, with her legs perfectly joined together and her two arms folded over her stomach.

She rose her head, and in a quick and dishonored action, she spat on Shane's grave, the saliva landing right on top of the wooden cross. "Son of a bitch!" She dissed with a furious voice; her angry expression wicked like the devil.

* * *

Rick stored his walkie-talkie back in his pocket, and scoured with his hand his scratchy stubble and his annoying sideburns. He got up and headed towards the crowd of people. Even though Shane had essayed to kill him, the grief was still corroding him from the inside out. Over the last day, he had barely cracked a smile and was more distant from his family.

He got up, sniffing with his frozen nose, and headed back towards the group. Lee and Rick had called a meeting by the RV, in which all of the members would gather and they would give out instructions on what they would do next.

Rick walked towards Dale, who was coming out of the RV. He nodded at Lee in a salute. "How's Andrea doing?"

"Better…but it's going to be a long while before she goes back to normal." Dale asseverated with his ponderous voice.

"Dale…when are any of us going back to normal?" Rick asked in an inquisitive and depressed tone.

"After yesterday? Probably never." Dale snorted. "Speaking of which…I ain't saying this to tell you I told you so, but I saw this coming. Shane had been charging at you ever since you arrived. I think he was in love with your wife."

"I know." Rick snitched, assimilating the hard, tough truth with shuttered eyes. "The things he was rambling about before he tried to shoot me…it all makes sense."

"Yeah…but what I'm getting at was that everyone at camp was starting to get wary of Shane." Dale confided, placing an old and wise hand on Rick's shoulder. "The attacks, Amy, Mark…we are ready to move this camp, Rick. We let Shane call the shots because he was a cop…the rest of us…nobody's leadership material. I talked to everyone earlier…we think that you and Lee should be the leaders."

"Me?!" Lee blurted out in disbelief, listening his name being mentioned. Lee and Rick awkwardly gaped at each other, like two students that never knew each other had been forced to work on an assignment together.

"Yes, you. Rick is a cop and smart, you came to our aid just in time." Dale praised with a smile. "Kenny and Carley told me about how you saved them back in the attack. Plus, you're taking care of this little girl. I think that both you and Rick would be the perfect ones to lead us."

"Okay then…" Lee assented with a frown.

"Also, one more thing." Dale told them. "Lilly's been keeping track of the days ever since the beginning. Unless she messed up along the way…today's Christmas."

"That's great! The kids will be thrilled…" Lee concurred with a smirk.

However, Rick, who donned a very severe and austere expression, gripped one of Dale's shoulders and one of Lee's. "No! Absolutely not! Nobody can know this!"

"But Rick, won't it a little holiday spirit cheer up the place…" Lee suggested, but was immediately cut off.

"You don't get it Lee. How are we going to explain to the kids, to my son Carl, that on top of everything, Santa isn't finding them this year?! I don't wanna upset the kids. Let's just skip this over this year." Rick elaborated in whispers, to make sure no one heard.

"Now that I think about it…you're kinda right." Lee assented, with an elevated brow. "Anyways, let's get everybody together. We've wasted enough time."

"Of course. Everybody's waiting for y'all." Dale explained.

The three men turned around on their heels and paced around the corner of the camper. There, they saw the mob of people, herded in a semi-cercle, awaiting for their new leaders to speak. Lee did a quick count; there were nineteen of them in the group; T-Dog and Clementine being absent.

"Okay, people!" Rick voiced loudly. "As you all know, we're heading out and we're leaving this place. I've deemed that it's no longer safe. I've thought long and hard about where we should go…my decision was the CDC."

"The CDC?!" Lilly repeated in a critic tone. "How do we know they're still operable?"

"Yeah, she's right!" Larry agreed with his daughter. "Look how the army did back in Atlanta! What's the chance that the CDC hasn't succumbed to the walkers yet!?"

"We've got on other place to go." Rick advocated with a strong voice. "If the CDC has fallen, then we'll retreat and find some other place to go. Right now, it's our only hope."

"And just who the hell made you guys the new leaders?!" Larry demanded.

"Dad, calm down!" Lilly muttered to her dad. "We're almost out of pills. If you get too pissed off and have a heart attack, it won't be good for neither of us!"

"I just don't know why we gotta do what these two say." Larry declared.

"We're not forcing anyone to stay." Rick assured with a relentless expression. "If you think that your chances would be better out on the road, you can go. This ain't a dictatorship."

"Pfft." Larry hissed as his final argument.

"Anyway, when we'll be out on the road, be careful." Lee cautioned. "If you come across trouble, honk just once and we'll stop the convoy."

"Anybody got any questions?" Rick demanded.

Morales rose his hand. "Yes, Morales?" Lee enquired.

"We're not staying." Morales sadly confessed.

"Are you sure?" Rick confirmed that their decision was made. "Out there, you won't have anyone to watch your back."

"We've got family in Birmingham." Miranda intervened, with a sweet voice. "We wanna be with our own."

"Of course." Rick complied with a head gesture. "Be safe out there." Rick approached Morales and shook his hand. "Be safe out there."

"You too." Morales bit his lip, as he squeezed Rick's hand. "Hope you find what you're looking for."

"Alright, everybody!" Lee shouted, shelling his mouth so he would be heard better. "Get inside a car and let's go! Don't look back."

The crowd began dispersing, everyone cramming into some random vehicle. Most of the cars had to be shared between families. Their little convoy consisted of Dale's camper, in which Lee, Clem, T-Dog, Andrea, Dale, Rick and his family would travel, Glenn's pizza car that harbored him and Allen's family, Daryl's motorcycle, a pick-up truck that hauled Kenny's and Lilly's family and finally, a station wagon that carried Jim (who drove), the remnants of the Peletier family, Carley, Jacqui and Doug.

* * *

After a few minutes, the large group was immensely grateful that the snow had stopped. Albeit the roads and streets were still stodgy with ice, the driving was much easier. All of the vehicles departed in one direction, whilst the one pertaining to Morales and his family drove off in the opposite direction.

Kenny stiffened his hands around the wheels, as he fixed his sight on the camper he was supposed to follow. Duck was coddled within the arms of Katjaa, while Larry and Lilly dawdled on the back row-seating.

Kenny knew that it the trip was going to be a pain in the neck. He was never too fond of Larry, and the rare occasions in which he talked to Lilly it always ended up in a discussion.

"Mommy?" Duck called Katjaa's attention.

"Yeah sweetie?"

"Why isn't Shane coming with us?" Duck asked innocently

Kenny gulped nervously. Ever since the little brawl between the two small town cops, Kenny and Kat had avoided telling Duck the truth. He had every right to know; and even though he was two years older than Clementine; he lacked the maturity and the two parents thought that he was still too young to know the truth.

"Well, uh…Shane had to go back to his home town." Kenny lied, as best as he could. Katjaa glanced at Kenny. "Y'know, he wanted to find his family."

"Really? You haven't told the kid the truth?" Larry censured, with his arms crossed.

"Hey, I don't mean to lack any respect, but this ain't none of your business!" Kenny screamed at the man, peaking at him from the rearview mirror.

"Listen, little man, what really happened to Shane was that he almost…" Larry began rambling, but Lilly stepped in.

"Dad! Shut up! It's none of our business!" Lilly reprehended her father.

"What? The boy's gotta toughen up. How is he gonna survive otherwise?" Larry justified his actions.

* * *

Rick sat in the passenger's seat inside the camper, like he was Dale's co-pilot. "Just go straight forward. We'll just have to make a turn in a few dozen miles." Rick instructed.

"Okey dokey, boss." Dale okayed with a nod.

"Thank God the snow let up, eh?" Rick animadverted with a grin.

"The weather gotta stop shittin' on us some time, right?" Dale said.

Back in the RV, Lee was sitting in one of the sofas built into the RV, as Clementine half-napped next to him. That camper was bigger than anyone could imagine; after all nearly a family could live inside. In the back, there was even a door, that led to a 'bedroom', in which Andrea had isolated herself.

"Why did Shane do that?" Clementine murmured to Lee, so that no one would hear.

Lee meditated for a few seconds. "It's complicated sweet pea. Shane had his motives. He thought that he had nothing to live for. The way he felt led him into making a mistake. It just happened to have cost his life."

"Oh."

Now that Clem had made that question, Lee became more worried. Himself, he wasn't in the merriest of moods, but the fact that he never spoke a lot to Shane made it easier to handle with his death, since there wasn't a big emotional attach. But he was preoccupied about how Clementine was handling it.

Suddenly, Dale stomped on the brakes as fast as he could and honked. The camper wobbled violently. "What's wrong up there?!" T-Dog interrogated.

"There are two people out on the road." Dale declared.


	16. The Dairy

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 16 – The Dairy**

As Dale stopped his RV, the vehicles behind him also began to halt, the barking of the engines dying down. Inside the cars, trucks and motorcycles, the survivors mumbled to each other about what could be happening up front. Everyone already had their weapons rigged, ready to face any danger nearby.

"Stay here." Lee told Clementine, as he got up and headed up front. The girl mumbled something as he reclined back on the seat.

"Hey! You folks in there!" One of the silhouettes shouted from the road, waving his arms. The voice clearing denounced it was being masculine, and he held a jug of gasoline in his hand.

"Goddammit. What do these guys want?!" Rick asked into the air in a grunt.

"What do we do? Just get past them?" Lee proposed, ascending his eyebrows. Ever since the Shane accident, he was trying to get inside his mind that people weren't always as they showed.

"They clearly want something." Rick observed, rubbing his fingers on his chin. "They stopped in front of the convoy. Dale, go tell the others what's happening. Lee and I are going out there."

"Roger that." Dale certified, motioning his head.

"You're gonna talk to them?!" Lori demanded, standing up fast as a bolt, almost knocking Carl over. "What if they're…psychos or anything?!"

"Lori, I know we can't trust them, but we obviously out-number them." Rick reasserted her. "In both gun and man power."

"Well then, off we go." Lee said, before the three men squeezed the tight way all over to the door. "T-Dog, keep an eye on Clem."

"Yeah." T-Dog replied without much enthusiasm.

"Dad?" Carl spoke up with his child voice. Rick's attention shifted back to him fast as lightning. "Just…be careful, okay?"

"Of course, son." Rick asserted with a genuine smile, which had become something rare. "Always."

As Lee, Rick and Dale stepped into the outside, their first instinct was to contract their coats tighter. Albeit the snow had ceased, which avoided a lot of fog and allowed to see things if they weren't distant, the polar temperature was constantly present, piercing their garments and drilled their skin all the way to the bone.

"What's goin' on?!" Daryl was the first to demand, hopping off his motorcycle and slinging his crossbow on his shoulder. Behind him, the array of people began accumulating, marching towards Dale for answers.

"It's fine…just we found some people out on the road. Lee and Rick are talking to them." Dale elucidated with a pacific and calm voice, as the conversation between the strangers happened just a few feet away. The group viewed with eagerness.

"Hey! That's far enough! Don't go anywhere near our people!" Rick yelled at the two men, already having a latent hand on his Colt Python.

"Whoa! Of course! We'll keep our distance!" One of the men, carrying the jug, alleged with prudence, raising his arms slightly.

"We don't want any trouble." Lee stated in a diplomatic manner.

"Of course! Neither do we!" The same man spoke. He had ebony, back-brushed hair-style, his farmboy face riddled with a slight stubble and a few wriggles on the forehead and cheeks. He was heavily dressed, donning a thick, grey coat with a hoody and mittens. "I'm Andrew St. John, and this here is my brother Danny. We're just out looking for gasoline."

The second man awkwardly beckoned. He had slightly shorter hair, but common in color with his sibling. His face, for some reason, looked a bit creepy. His eyes were big and his orbits hollowed-out, creating a grey taint around his eyelids.

Out of the assembly of people, Glenn stepped forward. "What do you need gas for?" The Korean man enquired, tipping his pizza hat.

"Me and my brother come from a dairy." Danny explained with a wide smile and with huge clarity. His voice was modified by a Southern accent, just like his brother Andy. "It's surrounded by an electric fence that keeps out the biters. Place is run on gas."

There was silence for a few seconds, in which some people scratched their heads and wondered who these people were. "Looks like you've got quite the convoy here, which is fine, but if you could spare some gas we'd be much obliged." Andy tried to barter with politeness. "Look, we own a dairy farm up the road. If y'all would be willing, we could talk about some kind of trade."

"What would you possibly have of use to us?" Rick demanded in a threatening tone.

"Well, uh…how're you doing on food?" Danny suggested, putting emphasis on the word food. "We've got plenty at the dairy."

"Guys." Kenny called Lee's and Rick's attention. The duo of leaders turned their heads around to look at the redneck. "Allen did some inventory before we left. We'll be outta rations before the week ends. We need this food, guys."

Rick pondered for a while, his fingers tapping the barrel of his gun repeatedly. "I'll take a few of us to check the place out. Lee, Daryl, and Jim."

"I'll go too." Doug volunteered. "Improve the numbers, if we come across anything dead."

"Then I'm heading out too." Carley also came forward, preparing her gun.

"Actually, I'd prefer if you stayed here." Lee opinionated. "You're quite the shot. I'd feel better if you laid behind and protected the group."

"Are you sure you won't need me there?" Carley insisted, flopping her arms.

"I think the five of us will suffice." Lee commented. "You've got yourselves a deal." Lee hollered at the St. John brothers. "We'll bring some gas to your dairy. In exchange you give us some food to bring back. We'll see how things go on from there."

"Sounds fair." Andy agreed, with a nod and a 'not bad' expression stamped on his face. "A couple gallons should be enough to power all of our generators."

* * *

After Lee had said goodbye to Clementine, and Rick had finally convinced Lori and Carl that they wouldn't have to worry and that he'd be back, they departed with the St. Johns towards the dairy. They had been led through an almost imperceptible side dirt road, which was way cleared from snow than the main roads.

Rick, Jim and Daryl chatted with Andy and Danny, while Lee and Doug lagged a few meters behind. "Thanks for coming along, Doug." Lee showed courtesy with a smirk.

"Sure." Doug modestly acknowledged. "I'd like to get a look at that electric fence they talked about. Might give me some ideas for something I can rig up if we happen to settle in some place."

"Can an electric fence really stop walkers?" Lee curiously asked.

"As long as the zombies aren't completely dehydrated, and the fence has enough juice, yeah, that seems plausible." Doug bedecked with intrigue and cleverness in his voice. "The electricity basically cooks you from the inside out, right?"

"I guess so…" Lee evinced, although he had no idea what he was talking about.

"So if a walker enters in contact with the fence, it'll probably cook its brain." Doug smartly conjectured. "Probably takes a while. And that can't be a good smell…unless it smells like jerky…man, I could go for some jerky."

Doug reached into his pocket, and fiddled around until he pulled out a laser pointer. Lee looked at it with a certain interest. "Whatcha got there?"

"Oh, nothing." Doug flatly said, shoving the object back into his pocket. "Just a little something Glenn gave me from one of his scavenging trips."

"Hey, lollygaggers!" Andy spoke to the two men that slowed down behind them. They delayed their pace so that Doug and Lee could catch up to them. "How 'bout you tell some more about yourself, Lee? Rick here already told us he was a cop."

"Where ya from?" Danny queried, turning to him.

"I'm from Macon." Lee told them with a smile.

"Right here in the heart of Georgia!" Andy eagle-eyed with excitement. "Now that's what I like to hear. Y'all seem to have one hell of a group back there. Who's runnin' things?"

"Lee and I." Rick intervened with a serious expression.

"Conjoint leadership?" Danny verified that he was hearing the right words.

"They do always say two heads are better than one." Andy scrutinized with attention.

"How many people you got there?" Danny questioned.

"We got fifteen." Daryl sputtered, spitting on the ground. The St. Johns gazed at him in disgust. "Family of four left us yesterday."

"Well, we'd love to get you all to the dairy." Andy friendly declared. "We've got a lotta food, and frankly, we could always use a helping hand. Momma's been runnin' the dairy for as…long as I can remember, but now it's…gettin'…"

"YOU THINK YOU GONNA CUT ME OUTTA THIS?!"

"Shit. Get down!" Andy rumbled at the small batch of people.

Everybody crouched, as they understood that there was someone in the near area. "Who is that?" Jim inquired, surveying the area around them. All of them were hyperventilating, the build-up making them shiver since anything sudden could happen at any moment.

"Let's get to cover." Danny ordered, as he began creeping in a squat towards the treeline.

The group followed them, making sure their heads were down and that they didn't step on sticks or anything. Rick glared at the St. Johns, and then suspiciously told Lee. "Lee. I don't like where this is going."

"What're you thinking?" Lee quizzed, as they penetrated into the hiding spot the foliage and vegetation provided.

"This might be an ambush." Rick hypothesized, speaking to Lee in mutters.

"Let's just get into cover." Lee said, not being able to rationalize at the moment.

Once they were well camouflaged in the trees, they peaked through the bushes and the leaves and stared at the dirt road; all careful not to be caught. Two men were arguing. Both of them wore a bunch of clothing that covered their appearance; ski masks, bandanas, sun glasses, beanies...and they were both armed, one with a shotgun, the other with a crossbow.

"Who the fuck are these people?!" Daryl demanded in a low voice, already readying his bow.

"Ssh." Andy shushed him. "Fuckin' assholes is what they are."

"What do we do?!" Doug asked the group in a panic, but nobody responded.

"I think I might get a shot at them." Daryl stated, looking down the scope of his crossbow. "Get them by surprise."

"No!" Andy digressed, gradually lowering Daryl's weapon with his hardened palm. "Let's just wait. Hopefully they'll be over soon and just move on."

"Yeah. He's right, stand down Daryl." Rick agreed, eyeing with caution and earnest the two fighting men.

In the glimpse of a heartbeat, one of the dudes kicked the other one in the stomach. The latter bent in two, and the one with the ski mask and shotty took the chance and fired towards the head of the other guy.

"Oh!" Doug silently gasped.

The dead body collapsed, the dead bandit's clothes being soaked in blood and incised with bullet holes. "Fuck you!" The remaining bandit profaned, shooting once again against the cadaver, gashing blood into the air. "Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!" He repeated, each swear-word accompanied with another bullet wasted.

The raging bandit finally stopped, spinning around and moseying in the opposite direction like nothing had happened. "Asshole." He insulted before disappearing.

"World out here has gone to shit." Andy observed with revulsion.

"I hear ya." Jim concurred.

"Let's just get back to the dairy where it's safe." Andy said, before he stood up and headed towards their destination.

One by one, each one of the survivors leaped to their feet, reluctantly taking their eyes off the dead body. Eventually, they essayed to forget those horrid images, and they followed Andy.

* * *

"There it is." Andy announced with pride. "The St. Johns' family dairy!"

As the small group arrived at their destined location, they were baffled with an amazing panorama. As the clouds began to stir and disappear, tiny straws of sunshine highlighted the beauty of the farm. Avalanches of snow lingered on the tiles of the vast barn and on the endless fields of corn crops, making it look just like Christmas. The large space was surrounded by birch trees and the so mentioned electric fence, that buzzed and whizzed at the survivors passed through the entrance.

Lee took a glance to their left, and saw a sign with a phone number and the dairy's logo. The St. John brothers were leading them towards the main house, that stood in the center of the property. It was quite tall, having two-stories and a porch decorated with icing and stalactites.

"Y'all can see now how we've kept this place so safe." Andy affirmed, indicating with his index the electric wires wrapped around the wooden fences. Doug stopped for a while and inspected the wiring with a smirk.

"Them electric wires work?" Jim asked.

"Ya betcha! They fry like bugs in a zapper." Andy proclaimed with vehemence. "We're pushing four thousand Volts through that thing, with generators and amps."

"Oh wow! You guys must know a thing or two about wire." Doug complimented, content to have someone to debate engines.

"Had a guy who did, yeah." Danny corrected.

"We can't have the kids around the fence." Rick observed with a critical eye.

"Don't worry, we have plenty of things to keep 'em distracted!" Andy reassured, as the men stopped in front of the house.

"Oh wow! You guys have enough electricity to run the whole place!" Doug chuckled, as he looked around the dairy like a kid in a candy shop.

"It's worth protectin'." Andy told him. "Hence all the juice."

"I thought I saw y'all with company down the drive!" A woman exclaimed, as she approached the guests with a basket in her hand. She was a red-haired woman, a bit stuffed around the sides, who had a loud voice and seemed to represent exactly what Southern hospitality meant.

"Guys, this here is our momma." Andy introduced the woman.

"I'm Brenda St. John, and welcome to the St. John dairy!" Brenda welcomed the new-comers.

"This here's Lee. He's from Macon." Andy disclosed to his mother.

"A couple of our farmhands were from Macon!" Brenda noted. "They grow 'em good there."

"They've got a couple more friends camping down the road." Danny conceded, intercepting the chat.

"Oh my goodness. You guys are pretty vulnerable…have you got someone with survival experience to lead your group?" Brenda worriedly inquired.

"I'm the leader along with Lee." Rick bluntly stated.

"Ricky here used to a cop." Daryl added.

"That's wonderful!" Brenda praised. "And now that you're all here, we'll make sure you're good and comfortable."

"We brought gasoline." Lee enticed. Jim showed Brenda a container full of gas he had siphoned for the St. Johns.

"Oh my! We appreciate the gesture." Brenda thanked, before he rose her hand and exhibited the contents of the basket. The survivors were casted in a spell once they saw what it was. It was a batch of warm bread, releasing a satisfying smell into the air and inside their nostrils. "These are for y'all. Fresh baked this morning."

"Holy moly!" Doug exclaimed, his face attracted to the food.

He gripped the basket, and in a quick move, he picked up a piece of bread and took a large bite out of it. He chewed viciously like a rat, before he jerked his head and saw that everybody was awkwardly looking at him. "Sorry." He said with a stuffed face, as he stopped chewing.

"Can't get stuff like that anymore." Danny grinned. "Not without a cow for milk and butter that's fo' sure."

"That's right. Hopefully Maybelle will make it through this bout of whatever she's got and be with us for a good long while." Brenda wished with a silent sigh.

"Your cow is sick?" Lee frowned. "What's she-"

"We have a vet!" Doug summoned ecstatically. Rick's expression became more uptight and stiff when he told them that information. "We can bring her here! We can help you folks out!"

"A vet?! Oh my, our prayers have been answered!" She uttered with joyous relief. "Well, how about this. Y'all go get your veterinarian friend and I'll prepare a big dinner. A big feast for y'all hungry souls. You guys can bring your whole group here for the day. It'll be nice to have some folks to help around here again. Danny, why don't you come out and help me out in the kitchen."

Danny nodded, before he and his mother spun around and strolled calmly towards the house, the survivors' mouths already watering about the dream of a hot meal.

"Why don't I go back and round everybody for the trip back here?" Doug proposed, still cradling the basket in his arms like it was an infant.

"Might wanna take someone with you. Ya never know." Andrew adverted with precaution.

"Rick, why don't you head back?" Lee assigned him a task. Rick inquired with his glare if he was going to be okay around those strangers. "That way, Lori and Carl won't be concerned."

"Fine. Let's go." Rick flatly ordered, as the two men departed towards the exit and toward the snowy dirt road.

"Jim, Lee, why don't y'all take a look around. Once you're settled in, I could use some help securin' the perimeter." Andy declared.

"What's wrong with it?" Jim interrogated with his greasy arms folded.

"Sometimes, the dead get tangled up in the wire before they fry, and end up knocking over a post." Andy explained with clarity. "It'd be a big help. You can learn a little somethin' about our fence. I'm a gonna top off the generators 'fore they run dry. Come get me when you're ready."

"Okay." Lee assented. Andy jogged towards a corner of the fence, in which Lee could see a gigantic machine and a variety of empty gas jugs littered beside it. "So, Jim…before we think about bringin' our whole group up here, we gotta make sure it's safe for everybody. So…can you keep your eyes open for things? I wanna take a look around."

Jim nodded without a word, before he turned around and headed towards the fence, discretely examining it. _Man of few words,_ Lee thought with a grimace.

"I'm, uh…gonna go." Daryl leaked, wielding his crossbow.

"What? Why? Where?" Lee sputtered, being baffled.

"I'm gonna go hunt something." Daryl confessed. "This place is too calm. I was never the fella to just sit and dwell."

"Well, Daryl, be safe out there." Lee wished him luck, before Daryl marched towards the woods.


	17. Breaking Bad

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 18 – Breaking Bad**

Lee closed shut the gate of the dairy behind him. Jim was still examining the fence, Andy was crouched near the generator, dipping jerry cans inside the generator, Daryl was out amusing himself in a hunting trip, Brenda and Danny were crammed inside the kitchen cooking dinner and finally but not least, Doug and Rick were going to bring the entire group to the place.

Lee marched towards Andy, whilst looking around him to detect any kinds of dangers. He spotted a broken swing dangling from a tree branch, and in a hidden corner of the area, a workbench accompanied with a few tools such as a hacksaw and wooden boards. Lee took a quick peep at the white picket fence that surrounded the main house.

_Hmm. Pointy, _he thought.

When he approached Andy, the latter immediately rose his head. As Lee stood still in front of him, Andy continued to supply the generator with gasoline. "Hi. I'm glad you guys decided to help us out."

"Well, we're glad to help." Lee admitted in a friendly tone.

"I noticed back at the road that your group is pretty well armed." Andy opined with a keen eye. "You been stockpiling, uh?"

"Actually, those are all guns Rick and Sha…those are guns Rick brought to the group." Lee stated, almost mentioning the name of their lost friend/enemy, depending on which way he would see it. "How many guns do you have?"

"Well, it's just Danny's rifle and mine." Andy informed, scratching his stubble. "We don't have as many guns as you do. But we really only use them when we go off the property. Inside, the fence is all we need to keep us safe."

Lee thought for a while about what he could say next. "We can't be the first people you've invited up to the dairy."

"Well, no." Andy articulated, shaking that logic away with his hand. "We've made similar deals with other folks, trading gas for food. But ultimately, they moved on, looking for the people they lost contact with."

"Is the fence enough to keep out the walkers?" Lee asked.

"Walkers? Is that what you call them?" Andy chuckled. "That's good. The old one wouldn't have but Mac, he was our foreman, figured it out how to amp it up with the generators. We used to sit out here some nights and watch the sons a' bitches sizzle and pop when they got too close." Lee ruminated for a few seconds about Andy's manner of thinking. In his mind, viewing zombies getting electrocuted wasn't his life wish, but he understood the man. "Closest thing to entertainment these days I guess."

"These generators, they work?" Lee enquired further.

"We got lots." Andy declared. "And we gotta keep trading for fuel as much as we can. But they all do work together to do the trick. Like us."

"Well, I'm gonna get settled in real quick. Jim and I will clear out the zombies as soon as possible." Lee told Andy in a reassuring manner.

"Okay." Andy said as he focused once again on his task. "Remember not to take too long. The sooner we get them outta there, the safer we'll be."

Lee nodded in agreement, before he spun around and marched towards Jim. Most of the ice and snow around the land was beginning to melt, but the sky became greyer by the minute. You could say a storm was coming. However, Lee felt at peace at the dairy, it was way more secure than out on the open road.

"Jim? You ready to head out there?" Lee asked.

Jim turned his head towards Lee. The two men stood facing each other during a few seconds of awkward silence, before Jim nodded without a word.

"Well then. Let's go." Lee spoke, waving with his hand.

**.**

Somewhere in the midst of the forest, a different man was concentrated on another mission. Daryl Dixon had been walking for like, thirty minutes, with his crossbow ready at all times. At any moment now, a squirrel, weasel, raccoon was bound to appear. And he had to be prepared for it.

Daryl had travelled very away from the dairy, probably more distant than he should have. But he enjoyed hunting, and he needed a total solitude to be focused. His father, Will Dixon, was a bad, evil son of a bitch, who never gave two shits about his two sons. Albeit he didn't like it, Daryl found himself bearing some similarities with him. There was his taste for hunting game and his tough badass attitude.

At the very least, he was glad Will Dixon had been devoured in the beginning. He had been put down by a friend of his, Jess Collins, who also ended up perishing. Daryl wasn't even sure why he cried when he found Will, lying on the floor with his guts wide open.

Daryl's trip down Memory Lane was interrupted when he almost toppled an object. He let out a surprised grunt, before he regained his balance and glared at the object. It was an empty food can, that was now rolling through the dirt tinkling.

Daryl hummed in curiosity. He squatted near the tin can and picked it up, inspecting the interior. It was empty, picked clean. _Recent, _he thought.

Just when he looked upwards, he noticed a camp site lurking amid the woods. He got back up, tossing the can onto a pair of bushes, and investigated the camp. It was deemed abandoned; no one in sight. The first thing that he saw was a big, red tent, that didn't seem to have anyone inside too. Along with it, there were two bendable tables, both of them wedged with carton boxes, most of them having a logo of 'Save-Lots'. A fire pit stood in the middle of the zone, in which a water kettle was still cooking.

Not knowing what was in store for him, Daryl stepped forward and entered the camp.

**.**

Back at the dairy, Lee and Jim were strolling side by side along the endless fence that stretched until the horizon. Up until then, they hadn't come across any fallen posts, but Lee could spot some in the distance. Not a single word was exchanged among the two men, Jim being a man of few words.

"Corpse there." Jim indicated, pointing his finger at a cadaver that was drooped over the fence.

"Okay…let's get it off." Lee mumbled.

As the duo stopped in front of the dead body, they stared at it with disgust. The zombie had its skull shaved clean, but had various scars and exposed wounds on its putrid skin, which was black from the grilling. It had an arrow stuck in its neck, which chained him to the fence.

Jim wrapped his fingers around the arrow, before he ripped it off. Lee proceeded by placing his foot on its chest, and then kicking it off the fence.

"C'mon. I'm sure there're still a few more out there." Lee ordered, as they resumed their hiking. Lee brainstormed for something to say. "So…you got any comments about…anything?"

Jim shook his head negatively.

"Well, okay…" Lee assented. "Y'know, the group's here for you if you need anything. Some of us might have…lost a lot…but we still have each other."

Jim glanced at Lee. "I like the group." He bluntly disclosed. "I would've put a bullet in my head by now if I were alone."

Jim fixed his eyes once again on the panorama in front of him. Lee frowned in surprise; it was rare to see Jim say a full sentence. Lee then jerked his head, noting the next walker. This one was ninety degrees bent over the fence, its hands clutching the wires.

"Here's the next one." Lee asserted.

Jim latched onto the walkers shoulders and shoved it away. But when it dropped behind, its enclosed fists kept it attached to the fence. "Its hands burned right into the wire. I think they fused together."

Just then, Lee remembered the relic he had found back in the barn before Atlanta. He reached into his belt, before pulling out a hatchet. As he toyed with the weapon in his hand to get a hold of it, he elevated his arm, quickly downing it and severing one of the walker's hands. He rose his hand once again, and repeating the drill, he separated the second hand. The corpse collapsed backwards on the ground, whilst the hands remained on the wires.

Seeing that he couldn't do anything about the rotten fists, he and Jim proceeded along the path. A few feet away, they came across a nastier accident. This time around, a lurker had toppled and burnt on the wires, taking down with it two post. Jim and Lee would have to put it back in place.

Jim hopped to the other side of the fence, since he'd get better leverage to lift it. Lee kicked the zombie's stomach for a while, before he certified that there was no life within that dead walker. He then leaped graciously over the fallen barbed wire, and crouched near Jim to help him.

"On three. One. Two…three!" Lee instructed.

As his count had reached three, the two men snorted as they utilized all their forces to push the post back in place. Once it was in place, the two men scrubbed their hands against one another and sighed, contemplating their handy work.

Suddenly, the electric fence seemed to gain life. The corpse still tangled in the wire began crisping and buzzing, sending sparkles into the air.

"The fence is on!" Jim observed.

"What?!" Lee exclaimed in shock, realizing that he and Jim were stranded outside the dairy. "Why the hell would he turn the-"

Without warning, Lee was interrupted when an arrow whizzed through the air, coming from the forest. The bolt struck Jim right in the shoulder. Jim squawked in pain, as he clenched the bloodied wound on his back, which still had the arrow firm in it.

"YOU DON'T FUCK WITH US!" A voice yelled in threat from the woods.

Lee's brain started racing. At the same moment, there was now a rain of arrows toppling down upon them, and they were just sitting ducks out in the open. Lee then twirled his head around, and spotted a gate in the distance with a silo standing beside it.

"Get to the gate!" Lee commanded with a holler.

The duo dashed towards their escape with hurry, but before they managed to two arrows landed right by Jim's feet, missing him by inches. Lee looked around him once again, and then pinpointed a tractor they could use for cover. The two men sprinted towards the rusty machinery, jumping onto their fours to avoid getting shot.

"Who the fuck are these people?!" Lee rhetorically demanded.

"We…we gotta get the tractor movin'!" Jim grunted from the pain. "To reach t' gate!"

Lee nodded in comprehension. He peeked, showing his head, and managed to see various silhouettes within the vegetation, shooting arrows at them. Lee then had to duck to avoid getting hit by a projectile. The urban man then elevated his torso a bit, just barely showing the top of his head. He essayed to push with all his might, but acknowledged that something was keeping the tractor stuck in place.

Just as Lee went back to a crouch, an arrow collided with the rusty vehicle, making ricochet and bouncing off. Lee headed towards the back of the piece of junk, and noticed a plow attachment, whose blades were deeply dug inside the dirt. Lee had to find a way to un-dig them. He surveyed and cautiously examined the mechanism, until he saw a lever. He pulled it, and was glad to see that the plow's blades were risen and out of the ground.

Then he crawled towards the front of the tractor. Just when he thought that everything was set to go, he spotted something blocking the wheel. Lee took a gape, and detect a chock in front of the tires. With a swift move, Lee reached in and removed the block, as the tractor slowly began sliding down towards the gate.

"Let's go! Keep your head down!" Lee adverted, pacing at the same rhythm as the tractor.

However, the joy of being protected soon died down, when the tractor bumped into something and halted. "Lee! It's one of the deadies we pushed down earlier!" Jim told Lee.

Lee reacted and glanced at the front of the tractor, and spotted one of the walkers they had taken care of, the female Lee had cut off its hands. Lee breathed heavily, before he gripped the zombie's wrists, and was forced to stand up to get it out of the way. With strength, Lee pulled the cadaver out of the way and tossed it to the side like a dirty rag.

But just as Lee thought again he was safe, the tractor stopped as it hit another walker.

"Goddammit!" Lee sputtered, grasping the knuckles of the next lurker.

The dead zombie came back to life. As Lee made contact with it, it reanimated, straggling to bite Lee's hand. Lee hollered in fear, tugging the biter out of the way any manner he could without getting munched.

He was lucky, when the zombie was bisected in two, separating its torso from its legs and leaving a red, gory mess on the green grass. Lee's jaw dropped, seeing the terrifying images, before he shook his head and knew he had to get back in action. With a sloppy movement, he threw the remaining half of the walker to the side.

"We're almost there!" Lee encouraged his hurt comrade, as the tractor got ever closer to the gate. Unknown to Lee, the remnants of the walker was now struggling, crawling towards him from behind. Out of destiny or sheer luck, an arrow flew by and pierced the same walker right through its skull, killing it instantly.

As soon as the tractor passed by the gate, both Lee and Jim dived onto their feet and ran towards it. Lee devastated the gate with a kick, opening an entrance for the both of them.

"YOU LUCKY SONS A' BITCHES! GO AHEAD AND RUN, WE AIN'T GOIN' NOWHERE!"

**A/N: Well guys, I hope you enjoyed the story. With Jim shot and Daryl finding a mysterious camp in the middle of the woods, how will the story unfold? See ya next time!**


	18. Internal Conflicts

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 18 – Internal Conflicts**

Back at camp, the group wasn't doing much. People impatiently waited for the rest of the group to arrive, trying to keep themselves busy with something. Dale was giving the old RV some tuning. Allen and her wife took care of most of the kids, including Carl and Sophia. Lori was kinda reserved and wasn't interacting with the group much. Kenny took watch on top of the camper. Carley surveyed the area around them for walkers.

There wasn't much happening. Just hype, anticipation and impatience tumbled upon the convoy of survivors.

In the bedroom inside the camper, Andrea was slumped in her bed, staring at the wall with a blank look. Jacqui was sitting on the corner of the mattress, trying to get Andrea up and moving.

"Andrea, honey…" Jacqui called in her charming voice, lugging Andrea's ankle. She didn't react much. Her eyes were crimson and watery. "I know what you're going through…I lost my two brothers…and believe me…staying like this, is the worst thing you can do…"

"Jacqui…" Andrea sniffled, blinking repeatedly. "How can I just forget what happened?"

"I'm not saying you should forget Amy." Jacqui corrected, motioning her head negatively. "She should always be alive in your heart. But if you don't move, if you just lie down and dwell on it, it'll be worse."

Andrea sighed, feeling like she wasn't being understood. "How did you do it? How'd you get past your brothers' death?"

"Well, I, uh…like I told you, my brothers are not dead." Jacqui wisely declared. "In my heart, they keep on livin'."

"Yeah, but they aren't…next to you…physically." Andrea remarked, with another sniff.

"Of course. But the memories I have of them…of us…they're happy ones." Jacqui said with joy. "Thinking about those memories…it helps me keep on keepin' on. I'm sure you had a lot of good moments with Amy…just get up, go out there, and reflect on those memories."

* * *

Kenny was sitting in a lawn chair, with a rifle in his lap. His eyes shuttered once in a while, before he remembered that he was ensured with the task of keeping the group safe, and woke up with an electric boost. Albeit he couldn't see much around them. Only a few squirrels and crows strolling by.

That's when a sound reached his ears. At first, he wasn't too sure of what it was, so he perceived it and concentrated on it. If he had to describe it, he would think of it like the incoming of an orchestra, but instead of musical instruments, there were weird noises…noises he would come to discover as being moaning and clicking.

Kenny jumped onto his feet, looking to his left into the horizon. "Oh no…" Kenny mumbled with extended eyelids.

Emerging from the same road they had come, Kenny spotted a large horde. Packs of walkers were assembled into one another, creating a massive, grey speck in the distance. Kenny essayed to quickly count them; he couldn't take note of everyone, but he was sure there were at least fifty.

"Oh my God…" Kenny repeated, before he snapped out of his trance. "Everybody! Incoming!"

As Kenny shouted those words, there were many 'huh?' pronounced by the settlers, as they raised their heads and gasped at the approaching menace.

"Fuck! They're…so many!" Allen exclaimed.

"Jesus, guys, what do we do?!" Donna demanded.

Kenny, wanting to take charge temporarily, hopped off the RV. "We still got time, people!" Kenny voiced, as the survivors began looking at the redneck. "We can figure this out! Okay…we should probably all pile inside the RV. If we're quiet, they'll walk right by us."

"What?!" Lilly shouted, differing from Kenny's plan. "That's a terrible plan! What we should do is hide in the woods. Perhaps even below the cars."

"Yeah! My girl's right!" Larry agreed, since his opinion was always convergent to Lilly's. "Your plan is too risky, Kenny."

"How is it risky?!" Kenny demanded in disbelief. The group began to worry as they saw that a discussion was starting to boil. "It's way safer than yours! If we hide in the woods, we might get caught off guard by other walkers! And they might find us under the cars! Imagine, one kid screeches, and next second a biter is crawling to gnaw his ankle! And then others follow, and then we are fucked!"

"Your plan isn't any better!" Lilly contradicted, becoming red from the argue. "What if they hear us inside?! They are enough of them in that herd to flop the RV around! How do you think things will go if we get flipped around, uh?!"

"The camper is sturdy!" Kenny stated like it was a proven fact.

"Guys, knock it off!" Carley stepped in, creating some distance between the two. "We don't have time for this. We gotta find a solution, now!"

"Kenny can do whatever the hell he wants. But I'm not gonna die because of him!" Lilly alleged, making Kenny's face become more furious.

"Fine. Everybody who agrees with me, get in the RV!" Kenny barked his orders. "Everybody who agrees with her, well, it was nice to meet you."

Everyone scratched their heads, pondering on which side to take. Kenny eyed each one of the people, feeling stressed and jittery since nobody could make up their minds. "C'mon, people! We ain't got all day!" Lilly reinforced.

"I think we should just get into the RV." Lori commented, making Lilly volatile on the inside. "They'll see us if we get inside the cars, and under the vehicles just doesn't seem very safe."

"Really, Lori?! I thought…" Lilly angrily ranted.

"Everybody, SHUT UP!" T-Dog loudly ordered, making everybody flinch and glower at him. "We don't have a choice now. Look!"

The group spun around on their heels, and were terrified to see the herd of walkers already dragging themselves around their cars, marching towards them. They had spent too much time discussing, and now they had been found.

"Fuck! Well, there's no choice. Get in the RV!" Kenny commanded. The people didn't hesitate one second to cram inside the camper, creating human traffic in the door.

"I'm not getting inside!" Lilly asserted with conviction.

"They've already seen you! If you hide under the cars, it'll be worthless." Kenny disagreed.

"Son of a bitch!" Larry grunted, as he gripped Lilly's hand and hauled her towards the door.

Kenny smirked for a quick second. He had convinced all those people like he was some kind of dictator. Shaking those thoughts away, he focused once again. He jumped on the lateral ladder, and climbed towards the rooftop to provide cover fire if necessary. Dale followed him closely behind. Once everybody was aboard the camper, Glenn took the courtesy of shutting the door tight.

Kenny and Dale both went prone on top of the RV, as he mired through the scope of his rifle. "Shit…"

"Looks like now all we can do is wait." Dale opinionated with a bleak expression.

* * *

With each step Daryl took forward, he ran his eyes left and right, just expecting something or someone to ambush him. He didn't have any fear, but there was some tension accumulated on his shoulders, since anything could happen at any moment.

He ceased in the center of the camp. He glanced in all direction, attentive to any sounds or noises. There was nothing. Daryl deemed the camp secure, but still kept his guard up.

Daryl marched towards one of the tables with the boxes. His crossbow was still in his hand, ready to fire at any moments. Most of the card boxes had been rummaged through, and the only ones who weren't empty had vacant bottles inside. A majority of them had a symbol, reading 'Save-Lots.'

"Save-Lots, uh?" Daryl wondered, taking a closer look at the logo. He had no idea of what it was, but he was sure he had heard that name somewhere.

Daryl sighed, disappointed that he had found nothing. He pushed one of the boxes with the edge of his weapon. His eyelids broadened when he saw a trio of boxes, with a different logo.

The image showed a cow surrounded by an arc, with the letters below saying 'St. John Dairy'. Plus, Daryl remembered seeing a logo by the entrance that was equal to that one.

"What the fuck…?" Daryl mumbled.

The man switched onto a stiffer posture. His brain was stormed with questions. Why was a box pertaining to the St. Johns doing in that camp? He didn't like that at all. He had a very bad feeling. He decided to just take one last, good look, and then get the hell outta there.

* * *

Within the RV, the environment was tense, and tight. There was barely any space to move. Clementine gawked at T-Dog, who was spying through the shutters of one of the windows.

"T-Dog?!" Clementine called. T-Dog's head spun towards him. "What's going on?!"

"Hey, lil' girl, don't worry." T-Dog soothed her. "Nothing's wrong. Just a few bad walkers." Clem made sad puppy eyes. "Don't worry. I'll keep you safe."

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Glenn stuttered, scratching his hair while on the passenger seat. The windshield had been covered in curtains, meaning only a dim light penetrated the RV.

"Glenn, calm down over there!" Carley reprehended, cold as a snake.

"I'm sorry, but I can't possibly keep calm!" Glenn hissed with horror.

Just as he finished his sentence, the group began hearing scratches on the outside, and the RV wobbled a bit. "Goddammit. I told you what would happen!" Lilly criticized in a mutter.

"Ssh!" T-Dog shushed her, putting his index on his lips. "It's only a couple. The rest are moving on."

"Good…that's good…" Allen croaked in a low breath. "Everybody, just stay quiet. We'll wait for them to pass by and then we'll deal with the ones that are left here."

They heard another bump, probably from a lurker that collided into the back.

* * *

On the top of the RV, Dale and Kenny were trying to control their respiration, as the hillbilly had an itchy trigger finger, waiting to go off.

"Psst!" Dale patted Kenny on the knee, catching his attention. "They're here."

Kenny shifted his focus to the location Dale was looking at. There, he apperceived Rick and Doug standing by the dirt road. They were starting to understand what was going on, so both of them crouched and crept towards the nearest bushes.

"Think they can help us?" Kenny enquired with a whisper.

"Not much they can do." Dale did a gesture with his hand – finger wide open and glued together – to tell them to stand down. "Like I said, we're stuck here."

"Fuckin' hell." Kenny profaned, trying to ignore the wavering of the camper.

"Y'know, Ken, you gotta let up once in a while." Dale told him. Kenny responded with a glare. "Our group is fragile. These discussions don't help at all."

"Dale, I had my opinion, Lilly had hers." Kenny replicated with infuriated eyebrows. "If it weren't for me stepping up, we would've all been dead by now."

"Geez, Kenny…just give Lilly some slack." Dale pleaded. "She's already stressed enough with finding pills for her dad. Plus, don't you remember what happened earlier? That whole thing with Shane? We gotta trust and help each other, otherwise we won't survive."

* * *

About seven hellish minutes passed by, the dread upon them making the seconds look slower. But albeit the horde had passed, three walkers were still beating down the door of the RV. In the vegetation, Rick and Doug were still camouflaged.

"We gotta do something about those three dudes." Rick attested, reaching for his Python.

"No!" Doug mediated, gesturing him to sheath his gun back. "I have a plan to distract them. With no noise."

"What is it?" Rick asked.

"Just follow me…" Doug, exiting the foliage. Rick prayed that Doug would be right.

Doug stopped behind Carol's station wagon. He peeked through the corner and spotted the three zombies battering down the RV. He pulled out his laser pointer.

"If I use this," Doug illustrated, showing the laser to Rick. "I'll be able to diverge the walkers towards the woods."

"Will that work?" Rick inquired with insecurity. He knew Doug wasn't the typical person to handle zombies.

Doug gradually raised his torso, and beamed the pointer at the walkers. He clicked the button with a smug face, and saw as the little red dot scanned the white orbit of one of the walkers.

The lurker detected the laser piercing its eyeball. It groaned and spun around dazzled, trying to lock his attention on the small dot that was impeding him from seeing properly. It waved its arms around, until he even began slapping its own face to get rid of the annoying object.

"Holy motherfuckin' shit Doug!" Rick profaned in a compliment, making Doug's smile enlarged. "It works! You're a friggin' genius!"

Doug stayed silent, as he shone the laser towards the other lurkers. The two remnants imitated the behavior of the first zombie. Then it was just a matter of time of Doug broadcasting that laser in all directions. Eventually, Doug switched off the laser, and the trio marched towards the woods, completely forgetting the pray in the RV.

Rick glanced at the top of the camper, and he saw Kenny, who was witnessed the whole thing and had a dazzled expression. "Wow…that was just…I'm speechless…"

"Well, thank you." Doug thanked with a cracked smirk.

Allen opened the door of the camper. "We all saw what you did. And I gotta say, it was amazing! You drove 'em off like cats."

"Okay, people!" Rick shouted out, focusing the group once more on the task at hand. "The St. Johns offered us a big dinner for everybody. I don't particularly trust them, but I know that I won't let us starve. So we're going to eat their food, help around, and come back."

"Fine, but who stays in charge of the vehicles?" Glenn quizzed.

"I'll stay here." Dale volunteered, lifting his arm.

"Carley, could you please stay with Dale?" Rick beseeched. "I'd feel better if I had your dead eye aim protecting our goods."

"Of course." Carley agreed with a nod.

"We'll bring you guys some food, don't worry." Rick reasserted with a smile.

* * *

Lee and Jim were jogging as quick as they could towards the dairy. They didn't think, they just did the automatized movement of sprinting. Lee didn't even care if the bandits found their way through the gate or were following them, they had to get to safety. In the distance, Lee could discern Andy, who was starting to realize what had happened and was running towards the duo too. Jim was barely keeping up, he was panting and groaned in agony

Lee and Jim stormed inside the dairy, as Andy halted in front of them. "Lee! What's wrong?!"

"It was a goddamn ambush!" Lee blurted out with anger. At the same moment, Danny and Brenda burst out the door, as they shady man hurtled towards them.

"Holy shit! A-are you okay?" Danny asked with concern.

"Oh my Lord!" Brenda bellowed, bringing a shocked palm to her mouth. "What happened to you sweet heart?!"

"T'was those monsters in the woods, mama." Andy elucidated, glancing at his mother.

"I-I'm fine…" Jim rumbled with difficulty. "I-I've been worst."

"Hey y'all!" Kenny greeted with a yell. Lee turned his head around, and noted the entire group arriving at the dairy.

"Jim! Oh my God!" Katjaa gasped, pacing towards Jim and examining the wound.

"What the hell happened here?!" Rick demanded in a harsh way.

"He got shot with an arrow." Lee explained in a lighter tone.

"Christ! Are you gonna be okay?" Lilly inquired with concern.

"Don't worry…I should just…pull it out…" Jim smoothed, clinging onto his injury.

"Oh no honey." Brenda stepped forward. "C'mon, now. Brenda's got you. C'mon inside now. We'll have you all sorted out."

Brenda let Jim pass, and the latter staggered and limped towards the house, as Brenda led him inside.

"What is this shit?!" Larry screamed right in Lee's face.

"We ran into some people out here…bandits I guess…I think it was them who attacked us." Lee elaborated clearly.

"They gave us a lot of problems back in the beginning, killed a buncha our farmhands." Andy amplified, gazing to his side to check that no bandits were chasing them. "We were able to get them to stop by makin' a deal."

"You knew about these people?!" Kenny scolded.

"Food for protection." Danny added to make them innocent. "Not like we had much of a choice. But they didn't stop hasslin' us."

"Goddammit! Rick said this place was safe." Larry hollered with an extreme outrage.

"Apparently, it isn't as safe as we thought!" Rick berated in all seriousness.

"Listen, we might've had an agreement with these people, but we will not stand for this shit." Andy buoyed with thirst for revenge.

"No way we're letting these sons a' bitches get away with what they did." Danny concurred.

Kenny was already prepared to discuss war tactics, before Rick interrupted him. "No. I won't put the lives of my people in danger for some stupid, pissin' match."

"Yeah, Rick's right. We shouldn't sacrifice ourselves just to show them we're superior." Doug expounded with some uncertainty due to his lack of confidence. "Let THEM kill each other. Let's just stay here, in our corner, fix Jim up and then it's good."

"If you want it that way." Andy said, before he and Danny departed towards the house. "Don't worry, the electric fence should keep them out."

"Bandits? For real? We shouldn't stay here, this place ain't safe." Lilly reasonably pointed out.

"Not safe?! This is place is a hell of a lot safer than where we were. I think all of us and our guns can handle some punks with bows and arrows!" Kenny said with creed, before shifting his attention to Lee and Rick. "What we need to do is find a way to get our whole group up here. Take this place over if we have to."

"Wow, cool your jets there, Rambo." Larry killed Kenny's idea. "These are nice people. Let's not do anything stupid to get us thrown out BEFORE we eat."

"You guys should try to make friends with the St. Johns." Lee commended.

"Well, that's easy." Larry humorously stated. "I've got charm comin' outta my ass."

"Yeah, that's…real charming, dad." Lilly sarcastically acquiesced.

"Where's Daryl?" Allen asked, looking around him to find him.

"He went off on a hunting trip." Lee told him. "Dunno why."

"Hey, uh…so I noticed you got kids in your group, so I went ahead and fixed that swing for ya." Andy indicated, pointing his index at the repaired swing hanging from the tree. "Hope you kids like swings."

"A swing! I love swings! Just like at my treehouse!" Clementine exclaimed, as all the kids had excited expressions. "C'mon Duck."

"Why don't you kids go play on the swing?" Donna allowed, letting Billy and Ben sprint towards the swing.

"Uh…thanks." Rick praised with a frown, surprised by the gift.

"Anytime. We're lookin' out for ya!" Andy simpered.

**A/N: Hello guys, I hereby bring you another chapter. In this chapter, I wanted to focus on what's happening back at the group while Lee and the rest are at the farm. Especially because in the game, Lilly is the leader, and Kenny and Lilly have quite the conflict with each other. So that zombie attack served to see their diverged thoughts and instill that conflict.**


	19. Battle Of Arrows

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 19 – Battle Of Arrows**

As the different members departed in different direction to explore the dairy – some wished to enjoy the greenish fields through a gazebo, whilst others amused themselves on the swing - Clementine walked up to Lee.

"Hey…how'd everything go?" Lee asked with a smile. He bent to her height and gave her a rapid hug.

"Okay, I guess…there were these really scary zombies, but Doug drove them off." Clementine explained without much worry, detaching from Lee.

"Really?" Lee frowned, impressed with Doug's abilities. "Well, I'm glad you're safe."

"Also, Lee…could you help me?" Clem adjured with a grimace. Her fingers were intertwined, and she drilled the ground with the tip of her shoe. "I lost my hat and I don't know where it is. Can you help me find it?"

"Of course. Where'd you last see it?" Lee agreed with a nod.

"The night after that, uh…Shane thing…" Clem admitted with some difficulty, knowing that name bore negative memories.

"Oh okay." Lee consented, changing the subject. "Well, I'll let you know if I find you. Why don't you go play on the swings?"

* * *

Daryl headed for the other table of boxes, always having his guard up. As the other one, all of the boxes were empty, except for one who had depleted recipients of mayonnaise, water and detergent. This time around, there was only one St. John box, containing lots of Tupperware's labeled "MEAT". They all had meat. Daryl thought about bringing some of that food back to his group, but then he denied that idea. _I don't scavenge ma food!. _He thought. _I hunt it._

Daryl spotted a curious object near one of the boxes. He propelled the box to the side, and saw that it was a camera. He stared at the device for a few seconds, wondering what to do with it, before he picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket.

He turned to the tent. He wiggled his eyebrows once, before he decided that it'd be best to check inside. He stretched the crossbow in front of his face, sliding his feet towards the tent. Seeing the entrance was ajar, Daryl slipped his crossbow through the gap, and using the weapon he pushed the tissue aside. Inside, he could see a pair of sleeping bags, one of them kid-sized and bunny-themed. Daryl's eyelids blinked when he spotted a bloody rabbit doll on the floor and he saw a lump on the bigger sleeping bag, like an object was padded inside.

He crouched, when he saw a family photo with a broken glass frame. Taking a quick glance, he could see a woman, with large, foamy brown hair and a vest saying 'Save-Lots', accompanied by a young girl with long, silky chocolate hair.

Daryl pulled back the bedroll, only to feel a sensation of shock and bafflement invade his whole body. "What the…" He mumbled as he picked up the object.

It was Clem's purple hat, with the iconic D in the middle.

"Don't you fuckin' move!" A voice screamed from behind Daryl.

The hunter's body immediately solidified from the surprise. Daryl spun around and leaped onto his feet, quickly wielding his crossbow back and aiming it at the bandit. As the adrenaline dissipated, he knew that the woman pointing yet another crossbow at him was the same one from the photo. Daryl breathed heavily, as he knew he and the woman were stuck in a Mexican standoff, using the same weapon.

"I ain't goin' back! You tell 'em Jolene ain't goin' back!" The woman known as Jolene ranted with a level of craziness. She was quite different from the picture; her skin was dirtier and her eyes showed that she was a desperate and grieving woman.

"Hey, lady!" Daryl yelled back, steadying his crossbow, the sight always posited on Jolene's face. "Calm the fuck down! Now put the gun down and let's avoid a freakin' gunfight here."

"No, you put the gun down!" Jolene contradicted, motioning her weapon.

"Look…why don't you tell me who the hell you are and we'll settle this!" Daryl suggested, negotiating like it was a hostage situation. "What the hell happened to you?!"

"Well, that's one hell of a question mister!" Jolene stated with a maniac grin, before her voice became sadder. "They told me it was safe…but it weren't safe…not for me…not for her…they didn't treat her nice…! Not at all…they took her into the woods…wouldn't tell me where. And I begged 'em…every way I could think…and they just laughed…so I killed 'em! And I'm stayin' here 'till she comes back. One way or another…she'll come back. And now maybe you didn't hear me last time, when I asked you sweet…put your damned gun down! You think I won't shoot?! I'm gonna take this here crossbow, and put a nice arrow right through your eyeball…and into your goddamn brain. You're not a man…all men are monsters…take a can of beans…take a lil' girl…it's all the fuckin' same to you."

"Where in the fuck did you get that hat?!" Daryl demanded with anger, his finger hovering above the trigger.

"The little girl." Jolene bluntly said.

"You slipped into our camp and stole it from us! Right under our fuckin' noses." Daryl affirmed.

"So what if I did?! Lee stole her from me." Jolene rambled.

"The hell you talkin' about?!" Daryl furiously requested. "And how in the hell do you know our names?!"

"Think I don't know y'all…Daryl...?" Jolene replied with a twisted smirk. Daryl just became more confuse, and petrifying due to the fact that woman had been watching them for a long time. "Y'know, I changed my mind. I'm gonna shoot an arrow right through your balls. Yeah, right through. String 'em up on that tree." She illustrated, gesturing her head to a birch tree that had two logs for a body.

"I don't think that's happening." Daryl renounced with a negative head movement.

"I wouldn't suppose you know anything about them St. Johns, do you?" Jolene interrogated, with a neck jerk like it was a nervous tic.

"What about 'em?!" Daryl enquired, just expecting that bolt to dash towards him.

"You really don't know?!" Jolene questioned, her tone even louder. "Oh boy, they sure got some delicious plans for that man, what's his name…Jim? Oh yeah. They're serving him as stew."

"Wait, wait…" Daryl softened. What was she talking about? Where his friends in danger from those strangers? "What about Jim?"

"Tell me boy…how ya think that the St. Johns can trade so much meat if they don't have any animal stock, uh?!" Jolene quizzed, feeling ecstatic from Daryl's shocked expression.

Daryl's brain began running a mile per hour, making connections. He remembered seeing all of those jars of meat, that were stocked as belonging to the St. Johns. Daryl recalled Danny saying that they couldn't get fresh food anymore due to the lack of animals, and the sick cow was the only animal alive.

He wasn't sure if his theory was correct, but he wasn't gonna let the people he had survived for weeks end up as dinner.

However Jolene took the chance as Daryl was distracted, and fired an arrow in his direction, addressing at his nutsack. Daryl realized what was happening, and managed to dodge behind one of the tables. Albeit it wasn't before the same projectile impaled him through his leg.

"Fuck!" Daryl shouted. He looked at the sharpened rod that crossed his leg, and had opened a wound that was bleeding heavily. He could hear Jolene laughing like a deranged scientist.

Daryl elevated his torso as well as he could, and rose his crossbow single-handed. With a swift move, he shot an arrow towards Jolene. The crazed woman didn't have good reflexes, and the arrow penetrated her right through the stomach.

"Shit!" She hollered in her Southern accent.

Jolene's crossbow collided against the floor, as the woman bent in two. She clutched with her fingers the puddle of blood soaking through her Save-Lots vest, groaning and grunting as she slowly staggered backwards. At a certain moment, her moaning stopped, and her corpse collapsed on the floor.

"D…Danielle…sweeti…" She pronounced before life was sucked out of her body, that was found stretched on the ground.

Daryl panted, as the world around him became more silent. He strapped the crossbow on his back and used the table for support to get on his feet. "Fuck!" Gradually, he started hobbling in a lackadaisical manner, dragging his right leg – the one that had been hit. He was moving at a very faltering pace, but he had to keep walking.

He had to warn them.

* * *

Lee strolled towards the swing, in which the kids were playing. Allen was currently pushing both Billy and Ben, who squeezed to fit on top of the wooden board. Clementine swiveled her legs back in forth as she sat on a boulder, hoping she'd get a chance at the toy. Duck was really blissful, wanting to go on the swing , jumping around Kenny who seemed joyous at his son's happiness. Carl was the one who lingered next to Clem, and he didn't seem very excited about the swing. His face was clouted by the sheriff hat he donned, and he was holding his jawline with his two palms which were leaned on his knees.

"Hey Allen." Lee greeted.

"Hey Lee. Find anything interesting?" The bulky man inquired.

"Not really." Lee said. "Where's Donna?"

Allen chuckled at the question. "She's in the kitchen with the St. Johns. She said that by this point, she'd do anything to get her hands on a fresh potato."

Lee guffawed back at their desperate situation. "Do you think these people are trustworthy?"

Allen's smile faded. He pondered for a few seconds. "I dunno, Lee. We really haven't met anyone else ever since the walkers came. They could be anybody. And the fact Jim got shot with an arrow…I just hope I ain't wrong."

"Yeah…perhaps Lilly was right. Maybe we shouldn't overdo our stay." Lee devised with a serious expression.

"All I know is that my boys already like this place, and they're willing to give us a warm meal." Allen rambled, daydreaming of the fumigating food they were having for dinner. A delicate sliced hunk of meat, accompanied by petals of broccoli and forty year old whisky… "They seem nice for now…I don't think we have much to worry about."

"See you later Allen." Lee concluded. Allen nodded back at him.

Lee took a turn around the swing, careful to not get hit in the face. He marched towards Clementine, and he spotted through the corner of his eye Rick and Lori discretely chatting near the gate.

"Hi Clem. How do you like the swing?" Lee quizzed, squatting to her height.

"It's fun. Can you push me on it? Please?" The delighted girl solicited.

"Of course. Glad to push you on the swing." Lee complied with a smile. The urban man returned to his tall posture, and looked at Allen and the twin boys. "Mind if Clementine takes a turn?"

Allen nodded. "Okay, kids, let Clementine take a turn." Allen told his young infants.

Billy and Ben, at the command of their father, hopped off the swing, before they cleared the way for Clem. Lee headed behind the swing, as Clementine gradually adjusted her body on the swing.

Lee wrapped his hands around each cord, and began giving impulse, oscillating the improvised swing. "How do you like the dairy."

"It's pretty." Clem complimented. "It reminds me of how things used to look before."

"Yeah…it does." Lee concurred with a grin.

"Do you think things will ever go back to how they were?" Clementine queried, glancing at Lee.

"I don't know sweet pea. Maybe." Lee enounced, half-lying. "Don't worry. You're safe here."

"As long as the bad people don't get me too, right?" Clementine said with worry.

"I won't let what happened to Jim happen to you." Lee bolstered with a simper.

"Promise?" Clementine further inquired.

"Promise." Lee repeated with a nod. "I think that's enough for now, Clem. Let's let Duck have a turn."

"Okay. Thanks for pushing me." Clementine thanked, in a low and amiable tone, showing that she was at peace.

Lee smirked as he gaped at Duck. "It's all yours."

"Yeah!" Duck jumped in the air with a fist pump, as he ran towards the swing.

"Alright, Duck, don't pop a gasket." Kenny cackled, walking up behind him to push him.

* * *

Rick sighed and wiped his face with his hand. "What did you wanna show me, Lori?"

Rick's wife, who stood in front of him, had a disturbed, austere expression, that instilled a sense of inquietude in him. She stayed silent, before she cleared her throat and looked at the ground in a shameful way.

"I'm pregnant Rick." She mumbled under her breath.

Rick's eyebrows furrowed and his jaw dropped, his arms went limp. A silent gasp exited his mouth, and he felt a shiver. "Are you sure?"

"I know what it feels like…I'm pregnant…" She upheld, her fatigued eyes exhibiting her stress. "I'm maybe a week, two weeks in…I don't know…my periods haven't been regular since all of this started."

Rick became mute. "…What're we gonna do…?"

She coldly shrugged her shoulders, before spinning around and departing. "I'm askin' you."

* * *

"Hey buddy." Rick greeted, scooting near the tree stump next to Carl. He tipped his hat, to get a closer look at his face. "How ya doing?"

He shrugged, followed by a sigh. "Fine."

"Y'know…if there's anything you want to talk to me about…anything, really…I'm here, you know?" Rick advised him, with care and trying to get a reaction out of the kid.

He nodded as his sole response.

"I wanted to give you something." Rick claimed, fishing into his pocket. Carl kept his statue attitude, but couldn't avoid taking a peep. Rick took out a Glock 17. "I have a spare. You might not be a crack shot, but at least…it'll keep you safe."

"What?! No!" Carl denied, like the gun was a curse. "Dad…I'm not touching a gun ever again!"

Rick sighed, before holstering the gun back in its place. "How about a turn in the swing? I'll push you? Huh?" Rick boosted with a forced smile, jostling Carl back and forth.

"I don't want to." Carl complained, ripping Rick's half-genuine smile off his face.

* * *

Time was flying out the window. It had been an hour ever since the entire group – with the exception of Carley and Dale – had arrived at the dairy. The sky was becoming lilac, indicating the soon arrival of evening. The kids had had their fun on their swing, and Andy had led Katjaa into the barn so she could take a look at Maybelle, their cow. Obviously, the children couldn't avoid chasing him, since they wanted to pet the animal.

Lee was standing in the exterior, a thought of preoccupation in the back of his mind. _Where the hell is Daryl?, _he thought. But he shook that thought away, he knew the man liked to isolate himself.

Lee then noticed Danny sitting in a wooden bench, caressing a rifle. Scratching his head, he reluctantly approached the man. "Hello." Danny saluted, in his narrator, urbane voice. "Too bad I couldn't use her today."

Lee elevated a confused brow. "My girl here." Danny elaborated, gesturing his head towards the rifle.

"You really like that gun." Lee awkwardly observed.

"What's not to like?" Danny said in a rather sinister manner.

"Just kinda…creepy, that's all." Lee answered with narrowed eyelids.

"Times like these, a .243 will keep you warmer at night than any lady I've ever known." Danny stated.

"So…where's Jim? How's he doing?" Lee asked, peeking at the house.

"He's in the hands of the best damn doctor I've ever known." Danny consoled with conviction. "Trust me. Momma has a way with boo-boos."

"Well, I uh…I'm gonna wait for supper." Lee concluded, feeling perturbed enough as it was.

"It'll be a good one!" Danny asserted, swooping his palm down the erect, lumber stock of the rifle.

Wanting to be reunited with Clem, Lee twirled around and strolled towards the barn, that reminded him of the one in which he and Rick had found the horses. He essayed to forget Danny's fetish. _I really hope he doesn't actually SLEEP with the gun._ He serrated his teeth at the mental image.

But just when he arrived at the massive doors of the building, he heard yells coming from the gazebo that was built next to the house. Larry was calmly sitting on a bench with his arms folded, as Lilly and Kenny were in a heated argument.

"…then screw it for everybody, why don't you?!" Lilly sarcastically suggested in a furious tone.

"Forget it, princess! I'll do it myself!" Kenny dissed her off, before leaving the scene. Lilly had the face of a poked bull.

As he saw that Kenny was heading inside the barn, he stepped in front of him. "What was that all about?"

Kenny exhaled, before pinching his nose bridge. "C'mon. I'll show you."

* * *

As the duo of pals strolled inside the barn, Lee was welcomed with a heart-warming image. To his left, he could see a white cow, with black stains scattered all over her fur. She was lying down, barely breathing and only sometimes wavering her head. Andy was sitting in a chair with his arms folded. In the opposite corner, Katjaa inspected the cow with a smile, accompanied by a silenced, yet flaming with excitement on the inside. Clementine, Billy and Ben were there too, sitting with crossed legs in front of the animal. Andrea was by their side, sniffling and in rare occasions cracking a giggle.

Duck bent his head, to look deeply into the cow's eyes. Clem seemed as if she had something latent within her. "It's okay, Clementine, you can pet her." Katjaa permitted. Clem peered at her guardian for a brief moment.

"It's okay, go ahead." Lee allowed, motioning his hand towards the cow.

Clementine slowly walked closer to the cow, her elbows and knees shrunken, because she was a bit afraid of the animal. Once she slid her hand down her neck, she gasped. "Wow! Katjaa says Maybelle could have her baby tonight." Clementine exclaimed, looking back at Lee.

Lee swooped his eyes down the barn, when he intercepted a weird object. He approximated to it, and crouched near it. It was some sort of parallelepiped, but that was about it. "What's this thing?"

"Daddy says it's called a salt lick." Billy informed.

"Yeah, but don't lick it. It's gross." Clementine cautioned, as Lee got up and his smile augmented.

"Did you lick it?" Lee smugly asked.

"…I dunno…" She retorted as low as she could.

Kenny, standing a few feet away from Lee, commanded him to follow him with his hand. Lee turned around, before chasing Kenny down an aisle of rows of smaller compartments, crammed with all sorts of random junk. Pitchforks, a feeding through, a hefty bucket filled with grimy clothes, bear traps and boxes with the St. John logo.

At the end of the hallway, there were two extra, broad doors. Kenny and Lee gathered close to it, as Lee furrowed a brow in hype.

"You guys found it too, uh?" Rick appeared out of nowhere, with a hushed voice.

"What do you guys mean?" Lee inquired.

"Lee, they're hidin' something. Behind this door." He confided with secrecy. Lee inspected the padlock keeping it shut with stealth. "I got a quick look. They got boxes of stuff. And something metal and sharp."

"Don't get paranoid." Lee shushed Kenny.

"It's my job to be paranoid, Lee." Kenny insisted, billowing his finger in all directions. "I got my whole family on this farm. What about you? What about Clem?"

"I'll protect her no matter what." Lee uttered firmly.

"I know you will." Kenny concurred with a nod.

"Listen, Lee, Andy locked these doors up real tight the second we got in." Rick stated, taking a step forward. "I was snooping around earlier, I heard a really weird noise back there. My point is, we gotta know."

"See? So, go find a hammer or something. I'll have this thing off in a second. You back us up if them farmers come runnin'." Kenny instructed.

"Hang on, guys…" Lee halted their plans. "Think this through. We smash the lock, then what if it turns out you're wrong? You just fucked your chance of getting a good meal on those kids you're trying to save. Use your head Kenny."

"Alright, professor. What do you got in mind?" Kenny demanded, feeling a bit pissed off of being contradicted by Lee.

"Let me take a look at what we're dealing with first." Lee said, before turning to the padlock and inspecting it. He could see that the padlock was being held to the doors by some kind of screw assembly, that he'd be able to take off if he had the right tool.

"Hey, Lee…you know how to pick a lock, right?" Kenny awkwardly proposed.

"No! Why would you say that?!" Lee replied, feeling offended by his comment.

"Y'know, 'cause you're…urban?" Kenny added, grinding his teeth.

"Oh, you are not sayin' what I think you're saying." Lee answered, with an eye roll as he finally understood what the hillbilly was implying.

"Jesus, man, I'm from Florida!" Kenny justified himself with a certain shame. "Crazy shit just comes outta my mouth sometimes. Sorry."

Rick slapped his own face. "I'm startin' to think we should just shoot the lock and peek inside. These fuckers are definitely hiding something."

"No need to." Lee differed, beaming his index at the screws. "See those screws? If we have like a multitool, we can just take 'em off, take a look inside, close it and put the assembly back. It'll seem like nothing ever happened."

"Alright. It seems like we have a plan." Kenny agreed with a nod.

"Here." Rick rummaged through his pocket, before he pulled out a steeled multitool. It was one of those in which you pull a screwdriver, and then another multitude of tools appear. "Lori gave me this on our anniversary. Pull the first lever and you'll find the right tool. I'll go distract Andy."


	20. Another One Bites The Dust

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 20 – Another One Bites The Dust**

Lee and Kenny glanced through the corner of their eyes, and saw Rick verbalizing a lie to Andy. The latter nodded with a consenting grunt, before he got up and the two men moseyed out of the barn.

"Now's the time." Kenny allowed with a head motion.

Lee fiddled with the tool in his hand. He was completely dazzle when he saw that the small object comported more levels than he could count, and he was a bit confused on which on to pull. Taking a leap of faith, he pulled the three first ones. Lee became more nervous, the longer it took him, the bigger the chances were Andy returned.

He sighed in relief when he identified the second tool to be the right one. He was about to unhinge one of the screws, when an echoing sound rang throughout the dairy. A bell.

The kids excitedly looked past their shoulders, already imagining the big feast awaiting them inside the illuminated house. Lee grinded his teeth. "Mommy!" Duck exclaimed as he jumped on his feet. "It's dinner time! It's dinner time!"

"Okay, honey, let's go call dad." Katjaa soothed her son's cheerfulness, without killing his buzz. She got up and sauntered near the kids, conducting them out of the barn. "Hey, guys, aren't you comin'?"

"Dad! Dad! C'mon, let's eat!" Duck shouted.

Both Lee and Kenny constrained their visages in pure terror. Kenny marched towards his family, before he quickly spun around toward his friend. "Rick and I'll make an excuse for you. You just get that thing off." He whispered to him, as he was obligated to go along with his family, the infants and Andrea.

The second the small crowd strolled out of the barn, Lee turned back on the padlock. Wielding his tool, he started taking off the screws, one by one, in the biggest of anxieties and his hands slightly trembling.

The moment he saw that the assembly was no longer being held to the doors, he ripped it off and tossed it on the floor. He gripped the door handles, and with might, he pulled them open. The doors dragged themselves due to the rust accumulated in the hinges.

However, as the gap between the doors grew larger, and Lee began seeing better the interior, his face was dumbstruck by horror. He furrowed his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth drooped, like he had seen a ghost. Inside the room, he spotted a broad, wooden workbench, splatters of blood splashed everywhere. A electrical rotating saw was placed in the edge; the blade drenched in gore and muck.

But that wasn't the only repugnance inside. Along a shelf, Lee incredulously sighted a row of jars, of what seemed to be…human organs. Their imagery brought repulses and made Lee's stomach drop. They seemed to contain a variety of hearts, livers, spleens, even a brain.

On another shelf, another sight of manslaughter was visible. A multitude of bear traps, all of them tainted with more blood. Yet the most disgusting picture was probably what Lee saw at the corner of the room. A bathtub, with at least a couple gallons of blood spilling down the drain, accompanied by sickening tools such as sickles, electric prods, hay hooks, and a rope knotted like someone had been hanged dangling from the ceiling.

"Boy." Lee froze when he heard a thick voice from behind him. Lee twirled around and saw Andrew St. John. Much to his fright, his face donned a friendly smile, and a careless expression like Andy hadn't witnessed Lee snooping around their personal affairs. "Didn't you hear the bell…? Dinner time."

"What the hell is in that back room, Andy?!" Lee demanded, essaying to forget the horrendous images that scarred his mind.

"Look. We have food here, but Danny and I still gotta do a lotta hunting to keep everyone fed." He calmly elaborated. "When he catch something in the woods, we skin it and dress it back there. Momma doesn't like us making a mess in the house, so you see? Nothing to worry about."

Lee wasn't convinced at all. But he smiled, anyhow, as a lie of how he was gullible. He waltzed out of the barn, starting to think that the friendly hick family from the dairy was just a disguise for a darker layer beneath.

.

As Lee entered the house, he could already hear everybody sitting by the enormous table, squeezing so that everybody could fit. Outside, the sky grew more obscure and the clouds imitated. A storm was brewing. Lee saw Andrea, and was actually glad she was eating with them. The past days, she had been isolated, but it was good to know she was joining them this time.

"Decided to eat with us?" Lee remarked with a smirk.

"Yeah, I guess." Andrea said with a faded smile. "Couldn't stand the cold outside."

"Well, I'm glad you're joining us." Lee said, before Andrea nodded and proceeded to the gigantic dinner table.

"Excuse the mess." Andy told Lee, indicating the back hall next to a stair way. For some reason, it was blocked by a bookcase. "Some walker crept inside. But don't worry, they ain't been back ever since."

When Andy headed towards the table, Lee suspiciously spotted a revolver hidden in his pants. Lee followed him, but in a hesitation halted by the door frame. The table was surrounded by the innumerous people, adorned with plates, forks, knives, glasses, napkins…

"Everybody sit down and I'll go get the meal. Oh, this IS a delight!" Brenda claimed with enthusiasm.

"I could eat a horse." Kenny lowly said.

"Where's Jim?" Rick bluntly asked, eyeing the table and the St. Johns.

"Now don't you worry about him. I already brought some food up. You just let him rest." Brenda reassured.

Rick cleared his throat, before he rudely got up. "Mind if I wash my hands first?"

"Sure, but don't take too long." Brenda agreed. "And make sure to get under your nails, you've been muckin' around the dirt all day."

Rick forced a grin, before he circled around the table and walked towards the bathroom. On the way there, he intercepted Lee. "Go eat with Clem. Don't eat until I come back. Tell the same to the ma family." Rick muttered to him.

Lee saw through the corner of his eye as he headed towards the washroom. Lee knew what he was going to do, so he put on his best poker face and sat near Clementine. For the moment, everybody was silent, while Brenda was serving.

"Y'know, you guys got a really big group here." Danny observed, erratically tapping his fingers on the table as he tried to do small talk. "We almost didn't have enough grub for everybody. How'd you end up being so many?"

"Well, uh…at the beginning, everybody was headed for Atlanta." Glenn explained, rubbing his chin. "When it got overrun, a few of us set up camp in the forest. And then the rest of us just kept arriving at our camp. Lee and Clementine were our last visitors. From then on…nobody."

"Things out there get dangerous by the minute." Andy rambled, before he got up too. "I'm gonna go help momma. She might need help with all them plates."

.

Rick was marching through the hall, listening to the conversation at the table. Instead of going inside the bathroom, he walked ahead of it, towards the stairs. Slowly, he began climbing up, carefully not to make any noise. He had to check on Jim. He wasn't sure if he could trust these people.

He became petrified like a statue when one of the stairs planks creaked. He gulped, and peeped over his shoulder. No one heard it. Silently exhaling in relief, he kept moving up the stairs.

The second he reached the second floor, he hurtled towards the nearest door as rapidly as he could. He twisted the handle – perhaps a bit too quickly and loudly – and when he pushed the door open, he looked at the bed. The bed was perfectly made, with no sign of Jim.

_Where the fuck is he?! _He wondered. Within him, a fierce rage grew inside of him. His best friend was missing. He was getting pissed off, and wanted to get his gun and shoot every St. John he saw.

But then he heard some moaning coming from the walls. He looked around him in disbelief. He wasn't hallucinating, was he? He tried to pinpoint the source, and eventually he identified it was coming from behind the bookcase, that was symmetrically positioned in the opposite wall.

He strutted his way there, a feeling of anticipation and angst developing in him. The sound came from behind the bookcase. He forget about the noise he could cause, and he shoved the bookcase out of the way. The wood screaked against the ground, but he had to find out what it was.

To his surprise, behind the bookcase there was a door. Why would they hide the door? You only need to hide something if you don't want people to find it. Taking a deep breath, Rick opened the door with a weighing chest.

.

Back in the dining room, Brenda and Andy had come back with plates abundant with food, and they began distributing around. Lee saw that Lori and Carl were waiting for Rick, which was a good sign. Before Clem took her first bite, Lee discretely stopped her.

"Don't eat just yet." Lee mumbled to her. She shot him a 'Why?' glare, but Lee continued. "Just trust me. Just wait a couple more minutes."

.

Rick let the door fly back on its hinges. The room in front of him – which resembled a bathroom – was only brightened by a dim light. But what he saw inside that room was something that made him sick to the nerve and nearly made him faint.

Jim was lying on the cold tile floor, just barely groaning. His entire shirt was soaked with sweat and blood, and the most horrifying was the complete absence of his legs. Two stumps replaced them, and while they weren't bleeding, Rick could see the inside…the bone, the flesh, the veins…

"R…Rick…" Jim used all of his forces to stammer a word. He wasn't a person anymore. He was a life on the fence between living and dying.

"Jim…oh my God…" Rick whimpered, covering his mouth. Instantly, two tears blurted out of his eyes, streaming down his face. He crouched near his friend, his jaw battering from the dread, his whole spine shuddering.

"…brothers…" Jim carped with great difficulty.

"What the hell happened to your legs, man?!" Rick sobbed with a suffering face.

"…don't…eat…dinner…" Jim mumbled his final words.

As Rick got up, everything started making sense. He was invaded by a tide of emotions, that kept him frozen in place. "_Rick, did you fall in?_" Brenda shouted from below. Rick became even more ill when he heard forks and knives clapping against the plates. "_Dinner's on the table and everyone's havin' at._"

"_Barbecue, wow!_"

"_This is amazing, Brenda._"

"_Pass me another slice, will ya?_"

"CARL!" Rick screamed.

In a mad dash, Rick sprinted towards the door, even leaping over the bed like a parkour free-runner. As he charged over the door frame, he whipped out his Colt Python. The rage within him gave him the desire to kill all of the farm workers. He climbed down three steps at the time, almost toppling over. However, when he reached the table, it was too late. Everybody was munching the food like there was no tomorrow, except for his family and Lee's. It was necessary a great deal of willpower to not spew all of his belly's contents on the floor.

"CARL! DON'T EAT!" Rick commanded, reaching his arm towards his son.

Carl and Lori immediately set down their forks, while at the same time everybody gasped at Rick's extremely rude introduction. Albeit everyone had stopped eating from the shocking intervention, Danny kept filling his mouth with loads of meat.

"Hey Rick, what's wrong. Find something?" Lee inquired with a raised brow, as he indicated Clementine to forget about the food.

"Ah! Sit your ass down Lee, this lady made you meal!" Larry vociferated.

"Rick, what're you doing?! You're making a fool outta yourself." Lori remarked, sighing and passing her fingers through her hair.

"What's wrong, daddy?" Carl asked.

"You're eating human meat!" Rick announced.

"What?! That's ridiculous." Lilly contradicted, not believing. Andy jerked his head and glowered at Rick with a blank expression. Danny kept forking Jim's legs.

"Jim is upstairs, right now, with no legs!" Rick yelled, causing another wave of gasps and exclamations. "This is a dairy, not a ranch. Think about it."

When Rick finished that sentence, eyebrows rose, and confused looks exchanged towards the St. Johns. Brenda sighed, Danny eating with no stopping. "It's true." The woman confessed.

"Everything could've turned out okay for you folks…" Danny lowly grumbled, shoving more food into his mouth.

"He would've died anyway!" Andy shouted, waving his arm towards the stairwell. "We gotta think about livin'!"

"Settle down, honey." Brenda soothed him, before gawking at the shocked group of people. "Growin' up in rural Georgia, you're taught not to waste. That's how I was raised and how I raised ma boys. Now you got monsters roamin' around that do nothin' but eat people! We thought we should put that meat to better use."

"You're all sick…" Lee insulted with a disgusted face, shoving Clem's plate away from her. He got up and faced the deranged family. "Sick in the head!"

"Lee, that's not a very nice thing to imply." Brenda replied with an annoyed face. "Andy's right. We go after folks who were gonna die anyway, one way or another."

Danny swallowed, before turning to the group. "Like y'all."

"That ain't happenin'!" Rick hollered, before he rose his Colt Python and aimed it at the St. Johns. They didn't react nor moved a muscle. "We're all getting' the fuck outta here. And I'm gonna personally shoot each one of you."

Andy sniffed, before he glanced at Danny. Suddenly, Rick began noticing something. Looks and glares were traded among the family members. Lee seemed to perceive it too. Rick knew what it was. It was the clue of a nearby ambush.

"Kenny, get your gun!" Lee ordered. The redneck stiffened and reached for his weapon, but didn't make it in time.

"Don't move!" Andy instructed, before he snatched his revolver from his pocket. He beamed the gun at the guests, before he stood up and marched along the table.

Danny also slid off the bench they were sitting in, and readied his rifle, Charlotte as he nicknamed it. "We got a lotta use for y'all right here." He said like the survivors were meals. He directed the rifle to Rick. "Drop it. We outnumber ya."

Rick was reluctant for a while, hesitating on giving up his weapon. Seeing that it was two guns against one, he threw the weapon on the table.

"What the…fuck…the…what…fucking…what?!" Larry stuttered, too baffled to make a coherent sentence.

"Put your guns down! We're walking outta here!" Lilly commanded, to no avail.

"This isn't fair! We did nothing to you!" Carol cried, a tear bursting out of her eye as he protected her daughter Sophia.

"Lee! Lee!" Clementine screeched in fear.

Andy reached for Clementine and yanked her hair back, making her screech. The only reason Lee didn't tackle Andy was because of the gun in his face. "You motherfucker! I'll kill you!"

The palpable tension within room when the survivors heard a loud thump, like a bag of meat collapsing on the floor. They all turned to the door, as whatever seemed to be the source of the noise dragged itself on the ground. Jim appeared, his entire body drenched in blood, his moustache and balding head an entire mess. Everybody shrieked when they saw him with no legs. "P…please…h…h…help…" He pleaded, before he became still as a statue. His spirit gradually exited his body, as his corpse collided with the floor and gradually shifted into a state of permanent comatose.

"C…Carl!" Rick called out, before Danny sent a blow with the stock of his gun to Rick's cheek. He fell to the side, knocked out unconscious. Andy did the same, by using the handle of his S&amp;W to strike Lee in the temple, making him go lights out.


	21. Choices

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 21 – Choices...**

Slowly, Lee began regaining conscience. His eyelids, at their own rhythm, stretched out in short spans, permitting Lee to see what was happening. The first thing he descried was a pile of those salt licks. Glenn was curled into a ball on top of them, while Larry was roaring profanities, as he bashed the door with his bare hands. Lilly was bent in the corner, barfing the dinner she ate. Kenny paced around the room in a nervous wreck, blaring Larry to stop. T-Dog was inspecting the entire room for any possible exits. Doug was also present, he was throwing up into an empty box.

"Lee!" Clem ran to his side, as she noticed the man awakening.

Lee adjusted his body and butted his back against the wall behind him properly. His sore bones crackled in reaction. He shook his head, to clear his dazzled mind, and glanced at Clementine. "It…it was a person! They tried to make us eat a person!"

"But you didn't do it…" Lee looked on the bright side.

"No…" Clementine mumbled with a lowered head.

"The rest of us did, goddammit!" Larry hollered, facing Lee. His voice was extremely loud and infuriated. "And now we're fuckin' stuck in this shit cell!"

"Dad, please…now's not the time." Lilly beseeched, leaned against the wall, battling her nauseated guts.

"Lee, those sons a' bitches tossed us inside a fuckin' meat locker!" T-Dog informed him with a shout from across the room. "They kept Rick and the others back at the house. We gotta go save 'em!"

"OPEN UP YOU SONS A' BITCHES!" Larry howled in an unstoppable wrath, banging twice at the door with his enclosed fists.

"Dad!" Lilly screamed at her father again.

Larry halted his mission and marched towards Lee, who was still sitting against the wall. He was recuperating from the vertigo that made his head twirl. "This thumbsucker here was the one who brought us here in the first place!"

"Will you all just shut the fuck up?!" Kenny commanded, getting desperate with all the argues. He paced around the room in a nervous state, his hands posited in his hips.

"I'm scared." Clementine lowly confessed, as Lee gradually stood up.

"Don't be. I'm gonna find us a way outta here." Lee reassured her.

Lee looked to his side, and saw Glenn who was sobbing loudly. He walked up towards him and gently touched him in the shoulder. "Glenn? Everything alright?"

Glenn slowly rose his head. His wet eyes were blurting out tears non-stop, his cheeks were rufescent and he sniffled between hiccups. Snot dipped off the tip of his nose. "Jim…! They…they fuckin' killed Jim, Lee!"

"I know. But we're gonna find a way outta here." Lee told him with his arms folded. Glenn returned his head into the carapace he was forming.

"For cryin' out loud, kid! Stop being a baby!" Larry harshly remarked. "Jim's gone! Nothing's gonna fuckin' change that! If you actually got on your feet and helped me kick this door down, now that would actually help!"

"Larry, please! That's enough!" Lee instructed him to shut up. Larry let out a hiss, before he went back to uselessly punching the door down.

Lee waved his head, disgusted by Larry's asshole attitude. At the same moment, Doug was shuttering the box he vomited in, and as he used the shelves to pull himself up, he kicked it to the side. Lee walked up to him as the nerd wiped the corner of his lips.

"Doug, are you okay?" Lee inquired with worry.

"Better now." He said, though Lee wasn't very convinced. "I still can't believe…Jim. He was a really nice dude. He lost his family…back in Atlanta. He…didn't deserve that."

"Yeah…those St. Johns. We're gonna get back at them." Lee replied with a cogent expression.

"That's not what's worst…" Doug declared with a sad tone. He clutched his suffering stomach, his other arm supported his body against the shelf. "I mean…I thought that Shane…it was an exception. I thought that…maybe…people still had good inside them. Even in this world." Doug diverged his gaze at nothingness. "I suppose Rick has the right mentality. Can't trust anyone."

Lee nodded in a wise manner, taking in what Doug was saying. He deemed better to go back at seeking for a way out. T-Dog and Kenny seemed to already have searched the walls, roof and behind objects, so the only thing Lee saw was the AC hung to the wall.

He strolled towards it, grunting a curious sound. The AC was a huge three-dimensional rectangle that was held to the wall due to two screws. He conjectured that if he could get those off, he would be able to remove it. And luckily find a tunnel out of that mess.

His brain was immediately zapped with sudden realization. "The multitool!" He slid his hand into his back pocket, but his hope was murdered when he sensed it empty. "Of course they took it. Shit!"

"I'LL…I'll…I'll break the door down…" Larry stammered, his voice showing that he was becoming more fatigued.

"Dad, please…" Lilly once again begged.

Suddenly, Larry shrieked in pain as he gripped his torso with all of his strength. All of the survivors turned their look towards him. Larry grasped his striped shirt with all of his strength, essaying to dissipate an invisible pain.

"Dad, easy, easy…" Lilly smoothed him, as she neared closer to him. The old man keep groaning in pain, as his daughter approached and set her hand on his shoulder.

"Ergh…" Larry grunted, staggering a few steps back before his eyelids stretched out and his face froze. "Oh my God…" He murmured, as his body collapsed on the floor with the weight of a bull.

Lilly hurried near him, leaping on her knees next to him. The moment she saw the giant fall, her heart began racing a mile and already felt her tear-ducts filling up with the salty liquid. She gripped his shoulders, searching for any signs of life, but the ancient's face was bleak like a white sheet of paper. "Dad please! No! Fuck! I think he's had a heart attack." Lilly stated in a visible panic, as she compressed Larry's chest repeatedly, performing CPR.

"Shit! Don't we got any more pills fo' him?!" T-Dog demanded with a concerned expression, passing a hand through his bald head, that resembled a cue ball.

"No! I ran out yesterday!" Lilly spewed and stuttered, getting teary-eyed.

"Is he dead?!" Kenny asked with his brows furrowed.

"He's not dead!" Lilly responded, not even wanting to consider her father's demise.

"Fuck…if he's dead…" Kenny insisted.

"He's not dead! Someone, help me!" Lilly urged, maintaining her stance.

"Goddammit! T-Dog, help me!" Lee uttered, as he dashed beside Lilly. T-Dog followed him and kneeled on the opposite side. Glenn backed away in the pile of salt licks, with a greater grief, until his back struck the wall. Doug gasped, and clouted his mouth with his hand. Clementine was shrunk in the corner, chewing her fingernails like there was no tomorrow.

Lilly drew away her hands from Larry's softened torso, and Lee intervened. He intertwined his hands and injected them against his chest. He remembered a couple decades back, when some nurses intervened in his school and taught them the basics of CPR. He was now faintly remembering those memories. Use the heel of the hands to compress, keep the respiratory airways clear and give the hurt person some oxygen if necessary.

"T-Dog, blow some air into his mouth!" Lee ordered with haste, just as a precaution.

"The hell?! I ain't gonna…" T-Dog replicated with disgust, his twisted nose showing that he was baffled with what Lee had said.

Lilly however, with no hesitation, immediately placed her mouth against Larry's. Softly, she interjected oxygen into Larry's lungs with short exhales. Lee kept pressing, while T-Dog felt a bit guilty about not being able to do what could have saved Larry's life.

The moment Lilly broke contact with Larry, the latter's eyes sprang open, and a long breath forced its way into and out of his lungs. The man coughed with difficulty, as he enjoyed a few more inhalations. "Dad!" Lilly happily cried, a tear of joy leaking down her face. She arched and grasped her father in a crushing hug. Larry kept concentrating on resuming his breathing, as he slowly processed what happened. "I…I thought I'd lost you…"

Larry smirked for a brief second, placing a feeble hand on her shoulder. "I…I would never leave you pumpkin."

"Thank God…" Doug whispered, sighing and placing a hand on his heart to soothe it.

Lee cracked a large grin, viewing in jubilation the father and daughter reuniting. The survivors exchanged a few looks amid them, feeling more cheerful since it wasn't everyday they had the luxury to resuscitate a dead friend.

"I'll stay with him." Lilly muttered to Lee, with a peaceful voice as she caressed Larry's stubbly cheek. "You guys find a way out of here and make those motherfuckers pay."

Kenny, Lee and T-Dog nodded. "I think I have the solution." Lee declared. "That AC back there. If I manage to unscrew it, there might be a passage through there."

"Seems like a long shot." Doug commented with some negativity.

"We gotta try. We…just gotta." Kenny agreed with Lee. "But we don't have anything to take them screws off."

"In…in my pocket…" Larry shrieked with a weak voice, releasing a few more acute coughs. "I got some coins. Might do the trick."

Lilly fished into his pocket, rummaging through it, until she pulled out two quarters and a dime. She lent her hand to Lee. "Here."

Lee picked up the coins, examining them. He gaped at the screws, and deemed that the dime was the most appropriate size for them. "Okay, man, get that thing off!" T-Dog encouraged, enthusiastic to get out of that prison.

* * *

"_RICK!_" A muffled and wry voice called out. "_RICK?! Fuck, he's not waking up. They really hit 'im hard._"

Rick, at his own faltering pace, began opening his eyes. The first thing he noticed was an annoying pain in his jaw. He moved it around a bit, and was quickly stopped by the woe that shot through his skull. He frowned his eyebrows from the ache. The veins and arteries in his head were pumping blood at a sonic speed, and his temple pulsated with ache. As he got his bearings, he jerked his head to the right.

"Rick! Thank God you're awake." Allen exclaimed in joy. Rick found himself in the same room as where he had found Jim. Along with him, there were Allen, Jacqui, Donna, Andrea and Carol. All of them were sitting and chained to a chair, their hands tied behind their spines. Rick noticed that the bed had been pushed aside, and the survivors were arranged in a random formation.

He was more shocked to perceive a trail of blood leading from the main door all the way to the bathroom door (the one that used to be camouflaged by the bookcase).

"Fuck…what's happened?" Rick asked with a hoarse voice.

"Those motherfuckers tied us and brought us up here." Jacqui angrily said.

Carol's eyes were redder than normal, and the pair of rivers of tears streaming down her cheeks were visible, since she couldn't wipe them away. "They…they took Sophia with them…! My baby girl…"

Andrea was calmer, and she let out a sigh. "They shoved us all up here. They took all of the kids with 'em."

"What about Lori and Carl?!" Rick quizzed with extreme worry, gawking around the room but he could only find their absence.

"They took 'em downstairs along with Katjaa." Donna jeered, an impatient expression painted in her face. She squirmed with her restraints to no avail. "I swear, if they so touch Billy and Ben…"

"Don't worry. They won't place a finger on them." Allen asserted with a strong conviction on his voice.

"Okay, guys…no time to lose." Rick sputtered, moving with his restraints behind his back to examine the tissue. It was a versatile yet rough matter. "Rope. We're tied with ropes. Anybody got anything that'll cut through these? Anyone?!"

Rick wasn't very surprised that nobody answered. "Fuck." Rick hung his head in despair. He rolled his eyes to the bed. Measuring the distance between its edgy corner and the chair, he deemed that with a good bounce, he could hit the rear of the chair against the corner, and perhaps break it. "Okay, Allen…I'm gonna do this…you follow me?"

"Yeah, sure." Allen concurred with a recurrent nod.

"When I'll swing my chair, you're gonna kick me so hard until you send me to the Jupiter. Got it?" Rick elaborated, stamping shocked and confused expressions on the persons' faces.

"Wait, what good will that do?" Jacqui enquired.

"This chair is somewhat creaky." Rick observed with an eagle-eye. "If I manage to break this shit into splinters, I'll manage to release us."

"Won't they hear the racket?" Donna proposed.

"Hey, we gotta try something!" Rick replicated, as he glanced at Allen. "Ready?"

"Yeah." Allen nodded again.

"Okay. Here goes nothin'." Rick mumbled with a sigh. He attached the bottom of his shoe to the ground. With a swift and potent move, he swung in Allen's direction. The chair's articulations squeaked as it toppled to the side, before Allen placed his foot on Rick's right arm, and then shoved him in the opposite direction.

Rick began falling, gravity tugging him from below, to the left. He saw the pointy corner of the bed approaching his face, and he closed his eyes, wishing for the best. The corner missed his ear by millimeters. Instead, it struck Rick's chair, which croaked and grated as it dismantled from the impact, like a really venerable book that was turned to dust when touched by someone.

"Holy shit!" Donna hammered, as she witnessed the chair being crushed to pieces.

Rick coughed, the dust of the splinters lifting up. Due to the fact he couldn't use his hands to protect the fall, he had banged his head pretty hard. Plus, the floor was wooden. But one thing was sure; the chair was broken to oblivion. Splinters and chunks of it were scattered across the chamber.

"It worked…" Allen mumbled in astonishment.

Rick got up, examining the room. He jumped on the bed, before he began straggling with the cuffs, to pass them below his feet and onto his frontal side. "What the hell you doing?! Ain't no time to relax!" Jacqui scolded.

Rick finally managed to slip his wrists over his feet, before he tiptoed towards Allen. "I was putting my hands in a better position!"

Rick squatted behind Allen's chair, unknotting his restraints with ease, like they were shoe laces. Allen sighed in relief when he felt his slightly damaged wrists free. Allen spun around to Rick, before he took off the cop's restraints.

Rick swooped the sweat off his forehead, before he glanced at the bathroom door, and a thought popped into his mind. "Allen, free the girls. I'll be right back."

Staggering towards the door with hefty steps, Rick opened the door. He was shocked with what he saw inside, albeit he already knew he'd find it there. Jim's cadaver was lying on the floor, but his eyes were open, empty like a pair of moons. His extremities had short spasms, and a teensy moan escaped his mouth. It shot a brief glare at Rick. Everything about his person was gone. In those vacant eyeballs, he didn't recognize the man known as Rick Grimes, and his legacy of a man had been transformed into an organic robot with no life.

Rick sighed, already fighting the tears emerging in his eyes. With great sadness, he placed the heel of his foot on Jim's temple that was covered by a grey, stale skin.

He shifted his closed gaze away, as he buried his boot deeper into Jim's skull. The undead mechanic groaned louder, like a cat whose neck was being strangled, before the spasms stopped and his eyes were staring at a non-existent void. A jet of blood gushed out of the small crater Rick had dug in his cranium.

"Goodbye Jim…your fight's over."

* * *

Lee heard with pleasure the last of the screws echoing a metallic sound off the ground. He stored back the dime into his pocket, before he turned to Kenny. "Gimme a hand, will you?"

Both Kenny and Lee positioned their hands on the AC. They dragged it out of the wall, that made a raucous sound as it scrapped against the metal of the wall. Once it was loose, they threw it on the ground, not being able to hold it any longer. The survivors peeked at the wall, and were relieved to see that there was a duct to pass through. But their optimism vanished when they noted that it was quite tiny, and no adult would squeeze through that.

"Well, there's our way out." Kenny conveyed, scratching his horse-show moustache. "Looks like it'll probably lead right into that back room."

A brief flashback of those horrid images of bloodied tools and gore flashed through Lee's mind. "It's too small to fit through."

"I can do it." Lee and Kenny turned to Clementine who was volunteering, although she didn't seem very heartened. Lee crouched in front of her. Her lips were warped, another sign of her dread.

"You know you don't have to do this Clementine." Lee confided.

"I know. I just want to get out of here." Clementine consented with a nod.

"This WILL get us outta here." Kenny bolstered further.

Clementine silently stared at her toes for a while, as if in pondering. "Okay."

Lee still felt a bit bad about endangering Clem like that, but he knew that it was necessary. He gripped Clementine by her armpits, and then elevated with velocity and inserted her inside the passage. Clem glimpsed at Lee, Kenny and T-Dog, who were all waiting in the meat locker. "What do I do when I'm out?"

"See if you can get to the other side of that door and open it." Lee apprised, eyeing the door as an illustration.

After she heard that, she began crawling along the duct. The second she disappeared from Lee's sight, his heart pounded faster. Everybody waited impatiently, listening to the echoes of the footsteps inside the passageway. A nervous tension boiled among them, the anxiety peaking higher at each second.

Their faces became crooked when they heard the girl's gasp.

Their jaws dropped, becoming more hyperactive. They heard something else. Someone or something was heading towards the door. A few more endless seconds passed, until the door handle was pulled and somebody entered the room. Clementine.

"Are you okay?! Did anyone see you?!" Lee questioned in a row.

"No. But there's a man outside." Clementine debriefed with a mutter.

Kenny didn't waste any time marching over to the outside world. Lee peered at Doug. "Keep an eye out here, okay?"

"Uh…fine…" Doug said, with his arms crossed.

"You stay here, okay?" Lee told Clementine, stroking her hat. "C'mon, T-Dog."

* * *

As they waltzed inside the adjoining room, the same feeling of eeriness crept inside them. Lee had already seen this before, but imagining the ghost of Jim suffering through those splatters of blood and sickening experiments…it just made him disgusted. Through a barricaded window, Lee could see that it was night outside, the sky being totally darkened. It was cloudy, and a massive deluge crumbled upon the Earth.

T-Dog and Kenny studied the room in disturbance. "I told you there was something wrong with this room. It's a goddamned human slaughterhouse!"

"I don't want to imagine what they did to Jim here…" T-Dog admitted with sorrow. "They're a buncha fuckin' sickos."

Once Theodore finished that sentence, the three men squatted, in order to be stealthier. "Okay guys…here's the plan." Kenny rumbled to the group, beside the dual doors that used to be shut by a padlock. T-Dog took the chance and grabbed a sickle off the table to serve as a weapon. "We're gonna sneak up on the bastard real quiet. He seems so caught up in his own rant he won't see us coming. Then we take 'im down and head for the house. Save the others."

"Seems good. Let's go." T-Dog conceded.

Kenny was the one to take point, while T-Dog was derriere on their convoy. Kenny opened the door with delicateness, cautious about its rusty hinges. Lee inspected the scene. It was the same barn from before, with its stretching rows of cubicles. In the main doors – that were ajar – they could see Danny sitting outside the barn under the rain, resting upon a haystack. His precious sniper rifle was laid right at his side.

The three men glanced at one another, preparing for the kill. They began slithering towards their target, their hands prepared for any fight.

However their operation was blown when Andy St. John appeared to talk to his brother. "Dan, what're you doing out here?"

"Oh shit!" Lee mumbled to himself. The first instinct that came to their heads was to slip inside one of the compartments. They were crammed inside the small space, but they managed to fit. The scene was accompanied by an oversized feeding through, and mounts of hay spread around, which rustled under their feet.

"_Just guardin' the place, like you said._"

"_Well, quit sittin' around in the rain like a damn weirdo! Momma says that we can't keep that many folks alive and not expect trouble. Pick one to keep and kill the rest._"

"_Can I pick which one to keep?_"

"_Not the little one. Not enough meat on her to trade._"

"I'll keep an eye on Danny. Be ready to act when I say." Lee buzzed to the others.

"See what he's doing now." Kenny murmured to Lee.

Lee set his hand on the stable door of the stall. He opened it to a short gap, but was greeted with the barrel of Danny's gun hustled right in front of his face.

Lee immediately reacted, by leaping onto his feet and pushing the gun away. The weapon fired right next to Lee's ear, making him deaf with a ringing noise. Lee clasped onto his damaged ear, as Danny straggled to reach for another bullet.

T-Dog then burst out of the stall, his arm erect and with the sickle firm in his hand. Danny didn't even have time to dodge the chop T-Dog sent towards him, which sliced his nipple. Danny staggered backwards, defenseless, when T-Dog spotted an active bear trap right behind his foot. T-Dog hit Danny again with the butt of the sickle, luring Danny's foot inside the bear trap. The two spiky, metal claws enclosed on his ankle, making the farm worker collapse on the ground with an agonized whimper.

Danny latched onto his hurt ankle. The blades had cut right through the tissue of the pants and a splash of blood squirted out of his wound. Lee recomposed himself as he rose onto his feet.

"Where's my family, asshole?!" Kenny demanded in a threatening stance.

"You…you can't have 'em…we…we need the vet!" Danny wept in extreme pain.

Kenny directed himself to the exit. "Lee! C'mon!"

"I'll be out in a second." Lee reasserted with a raged expression on his face. His eyes were narrowed, his brows stiff and his teeth grinding against one another.

Kenny ignored him, and sprinted out the barn and towards the house, desiring to get back his family.

"What the hell do we do with this motherfucker?" T-Dog quizzed with his arms folded, as he picked up Danny's rifle. Thunder rumbled and resounded outside.

Lee grasped a nearby pitchfork swiftly, and utilizing two hands, he neared the four pins just a few inches from Danny's face. "You…you understand now don't ya?!" Danny asked, in a psychotic joy. "You can have me! It's how the world works now…give part of yourself…so others can live!"

"Cannibalism is not the answer!" Lee replicated with an angry tone. "Aren't the walkers eating enough of us?!"

"You gotta keep me alive!" Danny remarked, glaring up at Lee and T-Dog. "If you kill me, the meat gets tainted! You can't eat it!"

"You're already tainted!" Lee reflected, the pitchfork wobbling in his palms.

"You don't have what it takes!" Danny provoked with a twitched grin. Despite what he had said, he lowed his head in fear, expecting a death blow. "You ain't gonna kill me! Fuckin' coward!"

**[KILL DANNY ST. JOHN] or [SPARE DANNY ST. JOHN]**

**A/N: Make your choice. Pitiful Lee or Monster Lee? Also, did anyone notice the "The 100" reference in there?**


	22. And Consequences

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 22 - …And Consequences**

** 93% of readers voted to spare Danny**

** 7% of readers voted to kill Danny**

Danny screeched at the top of his lungs when he discerned Lee's arms going up in the air, taking balance. Danny shrunk his shoulders in fear, covering his face with his arms, hoping that his death would be quick and painless. He could already anticipate the twinge shooting through his body, the throbbing edges piercing his entire chest.

To his surprise, Lee threw the pitchfork like it was a spear towards the nearest hay stack, completely missing his target. Danny looked around the room with his mouth dropped, his eyelids showing that he was wondering if he was still alive. He had been spared. "This is not how the world works now!" Lee roared. "You won't make me do this!"

In the next few seconds, silence tumbled upon them. They could only hear the powerful tempest outside. Lee panted hard as he leaned on his knees. Despite not doing any physical effort, it took him a lot of willpower to keep his rage bottled up. Somehow though, he felt the weight of the anger vanish little by little from his conscience.

T-Dog had furrowed his eyebrows, not expecting one inch of what Lee had done. "I'm gonna go out there." Lee stated in a calmer tone. "Keep an eye on the girls, will you?"

T-Dog adjusted and cradled the sniper rifle in his arms. "Sure thing."

**. . .**

As soon as Lee stepped outside the barn, he molded into a crouching position, to reduce his visibility. He searched high and low, but he couldn't find a trace of Kenny nearby. The sky was dark and black like the bottom of a cave. In the horizon, Lee could easily spot the sprites and rays of lighting zapping the planet, echoing a loud sound through the dairy. He could feel the drops of rain in his nape and hair, like the embrace of a cold kiss.

Lee perceived something weird coming from the corn field to his right, that was separated from him by the electric fence. Something was stepping sticks and fallen pieces of corn. Something was moving. He rolled his eyes there, when he distinguished the silhouette of a rotting zombie, toppling its way towards the fence.

Lee was more surprised when he saw that someone snuck up on it from behind, and whoever that person was, used a hatchet to deliver a fatal blow on its cranium. When the cadaver collapsed on the floor, Lee identified that there were three people. Dale, Carley and Daryl.

Lee crept up to them, until he was face to face with them. There was only the fence that forbade them from getting closer. Daryl appeared to be hurt, as he was limping. "Lee! Is everybody okay?!" Dale demanded with concern.

"These people are fuckin' crazy." Lee mumbled to them, careful not to speak too loudly.

"Yeah, we know that already." Carley informed.

"Wait…how do you know?" Lee inquired with a dazzled tone.

"I came across this crazy woman while huntin'." Daryl intervened, explaining what happened. "She hollered about some things about these rednecks. She said they were gonna make dinner outta Jim!"

Lee donned a sadder expression. "Yeah. Jim's okay? Right?" Carley asked, but the answer was obvious due to Lee's face.

"Jim's dead. They chopped off his legs and tried to feed 'em to us!" Lee elaborated, causing a reaction on the three people.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph." Dale whispered, burying his face in his hand.

"Goddammit!" Daryl profaned, waving his fist like he was punching the air. "The bitch shot me in the leg though. I ran all the way here as fast as I could to warn y'all. Didn't make it in time though."

"T-Dog's in the barn. He's guarding Lilly, Larry, Doug, Clem and Glenn. But they have everybody else inside the house. We gotta go them." Lee continued, knowing that despite that they wouldn't forget Jim; they had to delay the mourning time.

"Fine. Let's go in and shoot all of 'em!" Daryl planned, already having his crossbow prepared.

"No." Lee immediately differed. "If we storm the house, we'll cause a panic. Try to find a way around the back. I'll head up front."

The three people nodded, before they turned around and squatted their way around the fence. "_I'm getting too old for this shit…_" Lee could hear Dale mumbling to himself.

Lee was now heading for the house. Still in his low position, he hobbled his way towards the house, his attention locked in the front door. Even in the distance, he could hear yells, probably Katjaa's, coming from the house, which concerned him even more. _Thankfully Clem's with T-Dog, _he thought. When he reached the gate, he just shoved it out of the way, and began marching up the slope, which comported wooden planks improvising as stairs leading right to the door.

He froze in his place when he saw the shadow of Brenda St. John coming up to the door. "Andy? Danny? Is that you? What's going on out there?"

Lee silently cleared his throat. "Yeah, it's me!" He said, mimicking Danny's gruff, creepy and suave voice.

"Oh God…" Brenda muttered, before he sprang around and walked right back in the house.

Lee cursed to himself. She had seen right through his lie. The urban man dived to his feet, and headed towards the door. He had no idea what he would find behind that entrance. His heart pulsated a little faster and a lump of tension accumulated in his throat. At each step he took and when he revolved the door handle, more screams emanated from the interior.

Lee allowed the door to swing in its hinges. He was paralyzed by the two doorposts, when he saw Brenda standing by the stairwell, one hand utilizing Katjaa as a human shield while the other beamed a gun at Lee.

"You just had to go snoopin' around, didn't ya?!" Brenda rambled at Lee.

"Let her go, Brenda!" Lee commanded in a steady voice, walking a step forward.

"Don't you take another step Lee!" Brenda warned, the gun firmly aimed at Lee.

"Lee!" Katjaa screamed with difficulty, because Brenda was clutching her neck in a tight grip.

"C'mon, Brenda, you know you don't wanna do this!" Brenda essayed to convince her. Through a glance at the dining room, he could see most of the kids along with the Grimes family crammed inside the kitchen.

"Just go away and leave us be!" Brenda pleaded, marching a few steps up the stairs.

Carefully tiptoeing, Lee marched a few more steps, in which Brenda stared around the room, racking her brain to find a solution. When she saw that Lee was too close, she raised the gun once again in his direction. "Stop right there! I mean it!"

Just then, Lee noted something out of his peripheral vision. At the top of the ladder, he could see Rick and Allen, slowly sneaking up on Brenda. Lee instantly conjectured that somehow they had gotten free, and were about to free Katjaa. Now all he had to do was keep her occupied.

"How…how did it come to this?!" Lee quizzed, in a wobbly and shaky tone to fake empathy. "Your family was obviously smart."

"Stop! I mean it!" She cautioned, pacing a few more steps up. At the same moment, Rick was gradually making his way down the stairs, until he dived onto Brenda's gun and wrapped his arm around her neck.

Brenda grunted as Rick's arm tightened around her gorge, while Katjaa ran down the stairs in relief. Rick straggled with Brenda for the control of the gun, but the overweight woman had no chances against the towering sheriff. Rick ripped the weapon off her hands and tossed it down the stairs.

Rick just focused on his deadly sleeper hold, strangling Brenda at a stagnant speed, to make sure she suffered. Brenda squirmed her legs and arms in all directions, desperate to slip out of Rick's arms, but he wasn't letting go so easily. Lee, Allen and Katjaa all viewed in a bit of a shock as Rick murdered the woman.

The expression of an aggressive murderer was stamped in Rick's face, from the homicidal groans exiting his mouth to the eyes red with fury. Allen, who was becoming quite disturbed with the scene, approached Rick and set his hand on his shoulder. "Stop! You're gonna kill her!"

"Good." Rick bluntly said.

That single word that escaped Rick's mouth sent shivers down Lee's spine. Because he didn't recognize that voice. It wasn't the same one that he heard every day; the one of an affectionate family man whose first priorities were his next of kin and his group. No. That voice was cold like a niveous and snowy day. It was the voice of a psychotic killer.

Allen's words were in vain, since by that time, Brenda's body was limp and immobile. When Rick perceived this, he heaved her body aside, like she was something as useless as a filthy rag. Rick sat on the stairs, breathing heavily. It wasn't before long that he noticed that his hands of carnage were trembling. He studied them for a couple extended seconds. He didn't recognize himself anymore. In the back of his mind, the phrase Lori had said resounded in the back of his mind, right before he went into the woods to speak to Shane. _It's never going to be the same…it's never going to be the same…it's never going to be the same…_

That's when Rick came to an acknowledge, which he didn't tell anyone. That all that time, ever since the beginning, they were struggling to survive, fighting off the monsters, but in reality…they were the monsters. _We are the walking dead._

Suddenly, they heard Kenny yelling outside, while Andy replied in hollers too. "Rick, Allen, go free everybody else in the kitchen. Kat and I are going outside!"

**. . .**

Lee and Katjaa dashed out the door, Katjaa desperate to see if her husband and son were safe. Outside, in the soaked, muddy hill, they gasped when they saw Andrew, gripping Duck with one hand in front of him, while he used the right hand to maneuver a rifle at the survivors.

"Let him go, goddammit!" Kenny shouted at Andy, his fists clenched. Lee knew Kenny, and knew that the man was gonna do some reckless stupidity.

"That ain't gonna happen!" Andy contradicted, marching forward with Duck right in front of him. The young boy shuddered, both from the frigorific rain and the fear of the barrel hovering near his head.

"Andy, don't!" Lee beseeched, raising his arms.

Andy rose the gun and aimed it at Lee. "Shut up!"

Kenny, who thought Andy was distracted with Lee, invested towards him, ready for a tackle. But it only took for Andy to move his arm slightly to take aim and fire a bullet right through Kenny's stomach. Kenny went blind from the muzzle, and the moment he sensed the projectile chafing his abdomen, he lost strength in his legs, and fell on the ground heavy as a felled tree. He stood still, lying on the mud, tightening his grip around his wound. He whimpered like a dying dog.

"Ken!" Katjaa hollered, as she hurtled near Kenny and squatted near him.

Lee glimpsed at Kenny for a second in shock, before he shifted his attention back at Andy. With his arms in an inoffensive stance, he advanced towards Andy with a levelheaded expression.

"Who the fuck do you people think you are?!" Andy demanded, like in his demented mind, he thought that the real villains was the Atlanta group. "Look at what you've done!"

"Calm down…" Lee essayed to allay Andy, but he only seemed more pissed off.

"Calm down?!" He repeated, like he felt insulted. "For what, uh?! All we wanted was some goddamn gasoline!"

The noise of a Glock 17 rang out through the dairy, rendering most of the people present near deaf. A bullet whizzed through the air and scraped right by Andy's skull. He blared in pain; his whole ear had been decimated and a stream of blood sprayed down his cheek.

Lee glanced backwards, and saw Carley with her gun steady, smoke coming out of the barrel. Lee decided not to waste any time, so he darted towards Andy. He was staggering backwards, stunned and he had let go of Duck. Carley had provided the perfect opportunity.

Lee bent over, wishing to tackle Andy by the waist. The second his shoulder made contact with his body, Andy's rifle barked, but the bullet simply flew loose into oblivion. Andy mewled, arching in pain over Lee's figure and the rifle skidded out of his fingers.

Lee resembled like a NFL player, jogging as Andy was overwhelmed by his force, but Lee had given perhaps given too much impulse. He couldn't stop running, and he was heading right towards the end of the hill in which they were fighting.

Gravity lugged Lee to ground, sending the two men rolling down the drenched and soft slope, the white picket fence below as their destination. For a few seconds, Lee's eyes could only capture distorted, rotating images of the sky and Andy, whilst chunks of grass and mud adhered to his clothes, his mouth and his eyelids. Occasionally, Andy would kick Lee in the face or the chest with the tip of his shoes, although he didn't even mean to do it.

Andy and Lee crashed against the fence. A few posts broke in two by the impact. Pieces of wood cracked and splattered all over the field, splinters lodging onto their garments. The two men were stretched out on the ground, immobile, recovering from the pain and trying to be the first one to get up. Pain shot through their skeletons.

Andy, driven by a psychotic rage, took no time in pulling himself up. By the moment he was on his feet, Lee was still having a deadlock in bending his knees. Andy seized the opportunity and bolted towards Lee, striking him with his knee to the temple like a wrestling combatant.

Lee growled when he felt the hit Andy gave him. Once again, he was out cold, his vision getting blurrier. The nerves in his head conducted all the way to his brain a consistent pain, caused by Andy's blow.

Andy wasn't stopping though. Despite having his spine inclined from the ache like he was the Hunchback of Notre-Dame and a few bruises specking his visage, he grasped Lee's collar as he hauled him towards the active electric fence. "Get up! Get the fuck up!"

Lee floundered his legs and even punched Andy's wrists, but the farmworker just kept on dragging him. His efforts were useless, when Andy spun him around and wrapped his fingers around his cranium. Lee was frightened when he saw, right beneath his eyes, the barbed wire effervescing with electricity. He fought back with his upper limbs, but Andy immediately restrained his arms behind his back, while he utilized the other hand to shove Lee's face into the wire.

Lee was in a disadvantage here. Andy pushed his head down with ease. Only when Lee's head was a few millimeters of distance from the fence, Lee found the force within his vertebrae and spinal cord muscles to grip onto dear life. He made it that far. He had people who needed him, such as Clem. He wasn't gonna die because of somebody who flipped out. All those thoughts and feelings were what created the distance between his mouth and the wire.

As if in a miracle, through the corner of his eye, Lee spotted T-Dog standing by the barn doors, with a preoccupied face and the sniper rifle dangling from his hands. "T-Dog! Help!"

Quick as a lightning bolt, T-Dog elevated his arms and gaped down the scope. He pressed the trigger, and the bullet landed right on Andy's shoulder. He released Lee and fell on the ground on his back.

Lee instantly recoiled away from the fence, before he turned to Andy with an impassioned expression. He overlooked the man, before he sat on his belly; his fists enclosed and ready for some punches. Andy slumped against the dirt; he couldn't even straggle under Lee.

The first hit landed right on his big nose. The bridge arched in two, the bone breaking and deforming the nose. The second one struck his cheek. Lee's knuckles scratched them like knives, leaving the cheek red and with the skin punctured. The following one was over his bruised eye. The punch definitely must have severed a vein, since the sclera was bathed in the maroon liquid.

Right behind Lee, the entire group accumulated, forming a crowd, watching as an immense depression and grief crumbled upon them. Most of the women, the ones with children, diverged their gaze away and blinded the kids' eyes. Lilly, Doug and T-Dog towed a drowsy Larry out of the barn.

Rick had his arm sunk around Lori's neck. His face was bleak. That beat down didn't make him feel any better. It just created a bigger void inside of him. Lori didn't even bother to clout Carl's eyes. The downpour of rain only increased the sad and sorrowful ambience. As more punches crippled Andy, Carley was the one who came forward, ambulating towards Lee.

Carley placed her hand on Lee's shoulder. Her magical touch seemed to mollify his feelings of anger immediately. Lee stopped throwing punches as Andy. He just panted his anger away, contemplating the freak Andy's face became like it was a work of art.

He noted a large water puddle next to him. Gazing at the mirror it formed, he could see his face. Wasn't now the time in which he was supposed to kill Andy? Wasn't now the time in which everything was over? Staring deeply at his own image, Lee felt some kind of…pride within him. He was proud that he hadn't let his sanity vanish away, and that he had keep his humanity through that shit hole he was traversing.

"He's had enough." Carley murmured to Lee in a soothing manner.

Lee got up and walked away from Andy, processing all the things running through his mind, as Carley followed suite.

"Is…is that all you got Lee?!" Andy inquired, his words seemed like coughs. He rose his head; he was missing multiple teeth and his face looked like a painting done by a baby, stains of purple, red, and orange were all scattered around his face. "You ain't shit!"

Lee had to take a couple stronger exhales to say what he bore in his heart. "IT'S OVER!"

"Fuck you!" Andy responded, trying to get up, but his injuries didn't allow him too. He just slipped like he was walking on ice, before he tried again. Only after a few tries he managed to get on his feet. Lee couldn't even see the pupils in his eyes because his orbits were too dented. "Once Dan and Mama get out here…you…you're all fucked!" A chuckle escaped out of his mouth.

"They're not coming." Lee coldly declared, before turning around and heading back towards the group.

"What…what does that mean?! Lee?! What did you do, Lee?!" Andy sobbed, before he collapsed on his knees. His poor figure of a man was just making a fool out of himself during the final moments of his life. "Don't you dare walk away from me Lee! Come back here and finish me like a man Lee!"

"Walkers!" Clementine squawked, beaming her finger to the horizon.

In the distance, the enlarged group could already see handfuls of walkers, who were wriggling their way over the fence. The generators weren't functional, so they could hop to the other side without a crisis.

"Let's go." Lee commanded, just strolling out of the dairy. He ignored as best as he could the suffering howls of Andy, and the sound of moaning floating in the air.

He didn't dare to look back at that scene, where the series of macabre events took place.

Everybody let the scene, forgetting the curse that was brought upon that wicked place. The only person that stayed behind was Daryl Dixon. Waiting for the walkers to completely raid the farm, he could see the zombified Brenda parading down the small mountain. During a minute, Daryl was indecisive on one thing. To either end Andrew's miserable life or leave him for the biters. Eventually, he made his mind. He lifted the crossbow in one hand, and fired an arrow right through Andrew's eye socket.

Andy's head tilted backwards, the rod impaled in his cranium forming a waterfall of blood in the back of his head. His whole body deadened; there were no more hiccups or leaking tears. Andy's cadaver collided against the floor, as the fountain of blood tainted the grass.

Daryl took a U-turn and followed the group.

**. . .**

The group was now dissolved, marching back through the beat-up path that led back to their vehicles. They were dispersed, strutting in no particular order.

"Hey Lee." Carley greeted with a smile, walking beside him. "I'm sorry I left our vehicles unattended."

"Don't worry about it." Lee answered with a feeble grin. "I'm glad you showed up when you did. We wouldn't be alive if you hadn't taken that potshot at Andy."

Carley smirked again, joyous with the compliment. "Where they really chopping up people? For food?"

Lee grimly regarded the floor. "Yeah. Clementine almost ate some."

"Jesus…" Carley breathed in bewilderment.

"This fuckin' world now. Just hiding unspeakable shit at every turn." Lee observed.

Lee noticed Kenny, who was bowing down. The lateral of his torso was bathed in blood, that soaked right through his shirt. He even had blood splatters on his cheeks and his fingers. Katjaa and Duck stood right by him. "Are you sure you're okay?" Katjaa enquired with worry.

"I'm fine." Kenny asserted, restoring back to his straight up posture, as he grunted and his sore bones cracked. He indicated the road with his index and middle fingers. "Why don't you go on ahead. Give me and Lee a sec'?"

Katjaa and Duck obeyed, as they twirled around and sauntered down through the road. Once they were out of range, Kenny's faint simper disappeared. "There's gonna be fallout."

"'Cause of Jim and the St. Johns? I would imagine so." Lee concurred with a nod.

"What do you think?" Kenny asked, his failing eyelids exhibiting a tired and buffeted man.

"People are gonna change, that's for sure." Lee stated like it was a given fact. "But if we stick together…we might have a shot in this dog-shit world."

Kenny fixed the horizon, as in assimilating Lee's words. After a few seconds, he departed, chasing his family.

Lee peeked over his shoulder, and saw Clementine who was lagging behind at a dangerous pace. "C'mon, Clem. Don't stray away from the group."

"Lee…are those bad people dead?" Clementine inquired.

"Walkers probably got 'em." Lee opinionated.

"Hey yo." Daryl intercepting Lee, at a slow shuffle. "I got something ya might wanna see."

When he finished his sentence, he whipped out the camera recorder he found in the camp, and switched it on. He approximated it to Lee's face, so he could see better. "Oh my God…"

**. . .**

_The camera image fizzled and sizzled, like a radio with nothing but static. In the actual video, the person who held the device was a woman, and she breathed heavily. She was filming their camp, right before Shane's incident._

_ Lee watched himself as he spoke to Kenny. He remembered this moment; it was when he proposed to find a boat and leave the mainland. Sometimes, he would see cameos of other survivors, such as Jim, Carol and Allen. The woman, who Daryl knew to be Jolene, didn't talk, she just breathed very loudly._

**. . .**

_ The scene cuts to another. The camcorder was thrown inside something that resembled a car. The only thing visible is the vehicle's roof. "Jake, Bart, Linda and all y'all fuckin' sickos from the Save-Lots! They call y'all bandits but you're a buncha fuckin' rapist monste-"_

_ The recording is cut abruptly._

**. . .**

_This time around, the camp is once again present in the tape, but Lee is seen sprinting towards the forest like Usain Bolt. The seconds after Shane was shot. But the camera's focus shifts back to Clementine. "Oh darlin' baby. Look at you. Look. At. You. You need a mama, sweetheart. We won't let them bandits get you, now will we? You buncha...y'all actin' like things are how they used to be. But the dead don't kill their own. It's the living you gotta be afraid of. The people I used to call friends…the people who took…" She stops chatting to the camera, like a dagger had been thrust in her heart. She picks back up where she left off. "Don't worry baby. Bandits got their eye on that dairy. As long as they keep gettin' food from them, you'll be safe. I promise."_

_ The tape reaches its end and the screen goes black. _

**. . .**

Daryl tossed the camera aside; they didn't have any more necessity for it. "That woman's dead. At least we ain't gotta worry 'bout her stalkin' us."

Lee didn't even have time to process, before Dale called out to the group's attention. "Hey guys!" Dale shouted. "While Carley and I were heading to the dairy, I came across something interesting."

"What is it?" Rick asked with no enthusiasm. Carl and Lori followed him closely.

Dale pointed his finger towards the treeline. As the group peered towards the woods, they saw a station wagon, parked on the side of the road with its doors flung open. What was more interesting was the trunk, it was full of boxes crammed with canned goods, bottled water and bundles of survival materials.

"Whoa! Baby, you gotta see this!" Kenny said. "There's a shit load of food and supplies back here."

"This food could save all of us." Katjaa said.

"We don't know if these people are dead." Allen said.

"If they come back, then we're just monsters who came out of the woods and ruined their lives." Lilly interjected.

"This stuff isn't ours." Clementine agreed, though her voice was drowned out amongst the adults.

"Dad, whose car is it?" Duck asked.

"Don't worry about that, Duck. It's ours now." Kenny replied, his eyes stuck on the supplies.

"It's abandoned, Ducky, don't worry." Katjaa said.

"What if it's not?" Clementine conjectured, now catching everybody's attention. "What if it isn't abandoned? What if it really is someone's."

"Who the hell would leave a car out here, full of supplies out in the open, if it wasn't abandoned?" T-Dog voiced.

Lee stood beside Clementine. "You're right. We shouldn't take this."

"What?" Kenny sputtered. "Did you get some meal back there the rest of us missed out on? We have to take this stuff."

"We'll survive without it."

"The hell we will."

"We'll find a way."

Kenny sighed and shrugged. "Dale, pass me the keys."

Dale seemed to be a bit reluctant, but he couldn't disobey Kenny. He gave him the keys and he unlocked the trunk. The group began discussing the contents, grabbing boxes of stuff to carry. Lee and Clementine exchanged a glance and Clementine clung onto his hand.

"Hey, Rick." Glenn said. "Where we gonna go now?"

Rick pointed to some kind of plaque. "There."

Rick had his finger cast at a plaque blanketed in ivy, moss, roses with thorns sprouting out of them and all kinds of nasty vegetation and foliage. Dale walked towards it, and began brushing past all of the obstacles obstructing the billboard. In the sign, the following words were stamped on it.

WILTSHIRE ESTATES – 20 MILES

**A/N: That's the last we'll see of the dairy. I think that, this was my favorite chapter to date. The contrast between Lee keeping his cool and Rick becoming more hopeless and turning into a monster was very interesting to write about. I also wanted to see their different views on changing and on the apocalypse. I will definitely develop this further in the future, and I hope you enjoyed.**


	23. Wiltshire Estates

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 23 – Wiltshire Estates**

48 days had elapsed ever since the beginning of the outbreak. At least that's what Andrea's calendar said. After what happened at the dairy farm, the group just kept on dragging themselves over the terrain of the desolated Atlanta, wanting to reach that town called Wiltshire Estates. They didn't know what they would find there, but they could only hope they would find a safe place for them, abundant with supplies.

Dale yawned. The sky was still bright in lively lilac colors, but the night was imminent. He was a bit sluggish and drowsy despite taking the wheel. They were followed in the RV by the other vehicles that roared loudly behind them. Rick was the co-pilot, standing in the passenger seat. Carl and Lori regarded a bleak void. T-Dog peeked through the windows, to certify that they didn't miss any locations of interest and that nobody got lost in the convoy. Andrea was locked up in the bedroom. Clem napped on Lee's lap.

"Stop." Rick indicated with a hand gesture, by the time in which he spotted fences, gates, houses and trees.

Dale drove up to what they were seeing. As they rolled through closer to it, they were absolutely blown away. They knew it was the Wiltshire Estates, because the main gate bore a gigantic sign saying so. A square of endless barred and metal fence stretched out to the horizon, but what was inside was better. A multitude of streets, all perpendicular to each other, led to rows of countless houses that had two stories at least. From the outside, they looked like mansions, and with enough manpower and will, they could definitely turn that into a community of their own.

Dale stepped on the brakes, gradually halting the vehicle and parking right in front of the Wiltshire Estates. All of the survivors peeked out of the windows in excitement, while Rick dashed out of the camper like a kid desiring to get his Christmas presents. Clementine woke up from the rough stop.

"What's happening?" Clementine mumbled, still in a woozy state.

"We arrived." Lee stressed with a harmonious tone.

Rick walked in front of the gate, enjoying the imagery of the perfect town. "I think we hit the jackpot."

Seeing that Rick had deemed the place secure for now, the settlers started to exit their vehicles, taking good looks at the village. "Wiltshire Estates. Pfft...fancy ass name." Daryl commented as an insult.

Lori and Carl joined Rick. "This place is perfect. We could start a new life here." Lori said with a smirk.

"It does look promising." Rick agreed on a lower level.

Lee approached the main gate, followed by Clementine. "We should probably scope this place out before drawing any conclusions."

"Indeed." Rick concurred with a nod, before he turned to the group. "Okay, let's take a look around. Just check out the first few houses, we don't know how abandoned this place really is. And it's gonna be dark soon. So watch out."

Lee pushed the rusty gate open, to allow the people to pass through. The survivors began forming teams of two, three, and started deciding on which houses they should verify. Allen, before continuing, turned to Carol. "Can you take the kids back into the RV?"

"Yeah. Guys, I'm gonna get the kids back into the camper until you give me the all clear." Carol voiced, as she chaperoned the children back into the RV, in which Dale stayed, along with Lilly who tended to a grumpy Larry and a moping Andrea. Lee made a gesture at Clementine, indicating her to go with Carol. She obeyed without a word.

Rick and Lori created their own duo. Rick pulled out his gun whilst Lori clutched her own torso to shelter herself from the cold. "Guys, it's probably not a bad idea to keep your guns out too." Rick yelled to the group. "Oh, and remember…if you come across strangers…disarm them and bring 'em to me!"

The next second, the small town cop could hear the sound of metal rattling and improvised holsters being forced open, along with safety levers being deactivated and hammers being sprung back. Lee and Carley were one of the other teams. He immediately headed towards the second house along the right row, Carley following right behind. They both had their Glocks 17 out, ready to fire.

Ever since a few days back, when they met Andy, a subtle complicity had been bonded between the two. Lee always knew that she had his back, with her deadeye aim that saved his ass a couple times, and he was constantly there to protect her, like back at the Atlanta camp. That's why as he advanced towards the house he felt totally safe and confident with her watching his back.

They stopped once they reached the main door. The windows on the first floor were all shattered to pieces and the wooden door had seen better days. Albeit the second story seemed untouched. Lee wrapped his fingers around the handle, Carley preparing her hand for any intruders attacking them.

Once Lee revolved the handle and swung the door open, their nostrils were invaded by the smell of mold and mustiness, making them cough. That place wasn't used in ages. Swooping his eyeballs through the room, Lee couldn't see any walkers. Only a living room cramped with old furniture, covered in dust. "Clear. Looks pretty deserted to me." Lee stated, lowering his weapon.

In the first house, Rick and Lori were circling around the perimeter to take a peek at the back. Once they were there, the grass was growing at a tremendous height, but Lori still gasped in amazement. "They've got such big yards!"

Allen and Donna were inspecting the first house on the left. Investigating the backyard, the house seemed to have the same layout as the other households. "I don't know when Andrea is gonna snap out of it." Donna confided to Allen. "The way she sits around moping around all day, you'd say she'd been bitten. I'm worried about her."

Kenny poked his head through one of the holes caused by a broken window, gazing inside the house. Katjaa was right beside him. "Jesus…this place is great." Katjaa mumbled with joy.

"If this place has a bed, I ain't leavin' this house for nothing." Kenny smiled, admiring the luxurious house.

After they had secured three of the houses, the group decided not to adventure any further, and gathered near the center of the road. "This house is empty." Carley told the group, as she and Lee met the others.

"What about y'all? Everything okay?" Rick inquired.

"Far as I can tell. I don't see anything near this area." Allen disclosed without a worry.

Rick's face shined. "Good. I don't know about y'all, but I don't want to spend another day inside that small camper. How about we take all of our stuff and spend the night in one of these houses. The windows on the second floor on this one seem intact, so we'll be warm."

"Sounds like a damned great plan to me." T-Dog agreed with an amicable expression.

"Alright. Go round up the others. I'm gonna go see if it's clear on the inside." Rick conveyed. "Lee, mind coming with me?"

Lee cocked his Glock 17. "Let's go."

* * *

Entering the house, the two men got their bearings inside the mansion. The living room they stood in didn't have much furniture. Only a few couches, chairs, tables, lamps and an ancient TV lingered around the abandoned space. A few clearing in the dust made them speculate that some of the furniture had been dragged, perhaps even robbed. To summarize, the whole house looked like a decrepit and deteriorating museum of vulgar objects.

"I'll take the lower floor. Go check upstairs." Rick instructed.

Lee nodded, before adjusting the gun in a firing position and marched up the steps, with the efficiency and the concentration of a soldier. Rick headed to the nearest door, and opened it. The room was dark and not even a dim light allowed to see what was inside, Rick could only discern a few ascending stairs.

"There's a basement and all! This place is bigger than we thought." Rick shouted to Lee.

But he didn't notice the two walkers lurking around the entrance. One of them was swollen like a gigantic blob of fat, whilst the second one was black like it had been roasted, and it lacked any flesh on its feeble bones. Taking advantage of Rick's distraction, they lunged at him.

"Yeagh! Shit!" Rick exclaimed, as the force of the two zombies made him trip and collide against the floor.

The moment he touched the ground, the two walkers crumbled on top of him. Rick was forced to shove his hands right in their putrid faces, to keep their battering jaws from reaching his bacon. His blood went cold went the living skeleton thrust his head harder towards Rick, and the cop's fingers perforated right through its eyes. The jelly-like substance of empty eyeballs burst like balloons, but the crippled walkers kept coming.

Lee came running down the stairs, having heard the yells. He stopped midway through the stairs, before whipping out his Glock and directing it at the blobby walker. He fired a single round into its skull, sending splatters of oozing goo against the wallpaper. The tub of lard spun its eyes backwards and slithered along the wall before collapsing on the ground.

But the surviving biter was still waving its arms around, against Rick who was still pinned down against the floor. In a swift move, he kept the zombie distance by maintaining it impaled with his fingers through its orbits, while he reached for his knife holstered in his belt. He pulled it out and transfixed it through its mouth. The walker's body became inanimate. Rick tossed it aside, panting as he recovered from the attack.

Lee hurtled towards him, and lent him his hand. Rick grasped it and slowly got up on his feet. The massacre had made a mess out of the house. Black gunk was sprayed along the wall like graffiti ink, the head of the blobby walker was triturated to a bloody pulp; the brains and skull were mashed like potatoes like a gory pap. Rick's knife was sticking out of the boney zombie's mouth like a pen in a pencil holder.

"That was one hell of a close call." Lee said, the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Rick gazed, disgusted, at his fingers drenched in claret, clot and sludge. He wiped them off on his trousers and removed his knife from the walker's mouth. "You don't say. How's the upper floor?"

"All clear. Didn't find any walkers." Lee imparted, before he glared at the cadavers with a twitchy face. "That's gonna leave a nasty stench. Let's get those things outta here."

"What the hell happened?!" Carley demanded, waltzing into the room. But once she saw the two mutilated cadavers, she put two and two in her mind. "I heard gunfire."

"Just a close call, Carley." Lee reassured. "Go tell everyone else it's safe here."

* * *

Working with the motivation of having a bed to sleep on, the group worked rapidly. Allen quickly informed Dale and the rest of the news, each member hauled their belongings, and Dale and Kenny drove the RV and the pick-up respectively inside the enclosure, in case they needed a fast escape.

Donna had ransacked the kitchen, and they all rejoiced with the sight of canned grapes, peaches, pears, apples, pineapples, cherries and more varieties of food and fruit. Lee and Rick had decided not to burn the decaying corpses that laid in the backyard right away, because if they found other zombies they could just burn an entire pile than to burn multiple ones.

Rick gathered everybody in the living room. They all carried under their arms sleeping rolls and blankets. The sky outside grew darker. "Okay, it's getting late and I'm itching to start searching this place tomorrow. I say we hit the sack. It'd be safer if we all slept upstairs. As light-sleepers as we are already, we'd hear anything coming up the stairs and I'm sure it'd slow 'em down a great deal. Thing is, we got five bedrooms and one bathroom. I know some of you were excited to have some space with your families off, but just for tonight, we'll be bunking up some more. Volunteers?"

Glenn was the first to come forward with a smile. "I can take the bathroom. I've slept in my share of tubs from my college years. I got no problem with it."

Carley raised her hand next. "I can share a room with Lee and Clementine." Lee smirked, and from amongst the crowd, he could hear Lori giggle.

"That's great folks, but there's still somebody else who's gonna have to share." Rick revealed.

Lilly scratched her head. "I suppose my dad and I could split a room with Allen's family."

Rick clapped his hands like it was another job well done. "Okay, that settles it. Now let's go upstairs and get some rest."

* * *

The ebony abyss of night fell upon the teensy house they crashed in. They all were settling on their crammed rooms, some people didn't have a bed and slept on sleeping rolls. Lori and Rick divided their bed, along with their son Carl who was thralled in a deep slumber. They couldn't ask for anything else. The whole Grimes family snuggled in warm sheets, the translucent glass balcony doors providing an immersing panorama of the stars.

Rick and Lori had their eyes attracted to the sight of Carl, who was a peaceful cherub. "He's out. Poor thing…he never really could sleep in the RV." Lori whispered to Rick, who was stretched out in the opposite border of the bed.

"Yeah, the RV was warmer with all of us crammed inside, but I don't think it was a comfortable place to sleep in." Rick murmured. The couple spoke as low as they could, so they wouldn't disturb the others. "And the noise…there was always someone coughing, rolling over or waking up from a bad dream."

"And the smell…don't forget the smell." Lori added.

"Yeah, that was pretty ripe towards the end. I still can't believe we're sleeping in a bed. I'd forgotten what it's like." Rick confessed with a grin.

"What're we going to do?" Lori wondered in a more serious tone.

Rick looked down, the obscurity hiding away his facial features. "I figure I got about eight months to find you a doctor. Once we get settled in here, I guess I'll go out on the road. You always wanted to have another kid before Carl got too old. I guess when it's time, it's time. Still…this is a complication we didn't need. We'll get through this hon'. Don't worry."

"I know…I'm worried too. Although this place does make me feel better about the whole thing." She confided to Rick. "It's just…"

They ceased to talk when Donna's silhouette emerged at the doorframe. They tangled around in their blankets and goggled her. She held in her arms something they couldn't identify due to the darkness. "I got some extra blankets from a closet. You guys want some?"

"Sure Donna. Thanks." Lori agreed.

* * *

In Lee's room, they had the chance of finding a bed, but there was only one. Lee allowed Clementine to sleep on it, the two adults would just have to get their sleep on the floor. Lee tucked Clementine in her sheets like he was her parent, while Carley was setting up her mats on the floor.

"Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite." Lee hummed to Clementine with a simper.

"Goodnight. Hey, Lee…there aren't any bad people here, are there?" Clementine lowly inquired.

"Of course not, sweet pea." Lee consoled her. "This place is safe, don't preoccupy. You just focus on getting a good night's sleep. Okay?"

"Hmm." Clementine made an assenting sound with a nod, before closing her eyes. "I wish Jim was here to see this."

Lee's smile faded away. "Me too hon'."

Lee got up and headed towards the center of the room, where he had placed his sleeping roll. He was at least a meter away from Carley. "I have to say…I was kinda skeptical at first, but you're a great babysitter." Carley joked, unlacing her shoes.

"I don't know." Lee responded in a very austere attitude. "Back with the St. Johns…I couldn't protect her. I couldn't avoid her seeing all those things…Shane…Jim crawling on the floor…that's all on me."

"Those things were out of your control." Carley replied in an assertion. "You're doing the best you can with her. It's not your fault this world has gone to shit."

"Still…I don't want her to see the shit that's going out there…but I haven't been very successful so far." Lee declared with a sad sigh. "I suppose this is just what we gotta deal with."

"She's a strong girl, Lee. And I know you won't fail." Carley ballasted with eloquent words.

"Are you sure that…you're okay with sharing the room?" Lee asked respectfully, elevating a brow.

"Yeah. It's no problem." She said. She leaned over and planted a kiss on Lee's cheek. "Goodnight."

Lee stood petrified in his position for a couple of seconds, before he slid inside his coating. His eyelids were extended and his face frozen from the surprise. He rubbed his cheek with care, like it was blessed. Butterflies tingled and tickled his soul, while he internally jumped and hollered in joy. And someplace in the back of his mind, he could only think about Carley.

Everybody slept in the biggest of serenities that night. Too bad that they didn't notice the snow-covered sign that was posted at the entrance that said 'ALL DEAD DO NOT ENTER'.

**A/N: I didn't want to waste any time this time around, so I skipped immediately to the group encountering the Wiltshire Estates. Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time around! **


	24. All Dead Do Not Enter

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 24 – All Dead Do Not Enter**

Night came and went. The moon was beginning to fade away behind the mountains while the sun rose in its bright glory. Birds sang in the tree branches. The light pierced through the windows, which was enough to wake the survivors up. Albeit most of them decided to profit from the opportunity to sleep longer.

Rick was woken up by the rays of sunshine impacting his eyes. His eyelids, fatigued and full of rheum, opened at a slow pace. Yawning with joy of a beautiful and natural wake up call, he elevated his torso. One thing he was glad about the apocalypse was the total lack of alarm clocks. Those things were noisy and annoying as hell, and it was sometimes nice to be awakened by the most primitive yet best way ever.

"Lori?" He called out in a raspy voice.

"Ssh." She shushed him. She was already up. She was curled up in the bed, staring at Carl non-stop. Her soft voice indicated that she was up for a while now. A smile was forged on her lips. "You'll wake him up."

"Oh, sorry." Rick excused himself in a low voice. "How long have you been up?"

"Few minutes…half an hour…" She rambled vaguely. "I've lost track. Not for long though. Look at him, so peaceful. He hasn't slept like this since we've left Harrison country."

"I can't imagine how hard this has been on him." Rick admitted with pity. "Shane, Amy, Jim, Mark…he was there to see all of it. Hell Lori…I don't know how I'm coping with it."

"That's what I've been thinkin' about. This new baby will never know how the world is like." Lori observed with a certain melancholy. "Hell…Carl won't remember much of it himself before too long…he'll never know what it's like to take his driver's license…or go to the cinema with a girl. Rick…do you think we'll ever be able to fix everything?"

"I…I don't know." Rick murmured, lowing his head. "I hope so."

* * *

Reality started to tug Lee back to reality in a docile way. He grunted lowly, his hammering head almost seemed like he was suffering from a hangover. Despite the safety the house provided, he spent most of the night tossing and dreaming about the deaths of his friends. Hard to think that so much had happened in so little time. Clementine however, seemed to enjoy the sleep and wasn't waking up.

But Lee's eyes yanked open like he had discovered that he was late for work when he noticed that he had his arm under Carley's head. Plus, the distance between the two no longer existed and now he was practically butting up against her. He gulped from the shock. Bursts of anxiety and nervousness shot through his body. He tried to slowly slide his arm out without waking her up, but he froze up when her eyes sprang open fast as a lightning bolt. She looked right into Lee's eyes.

"I, uh…I'm, uh…sorry I think I…I must've rolled over in my sleep, and…" Lee stammered in a nervous wreck, being inside a really awkward situation. As he veered his arm away from under her neck, he was to see that Carley stopped him from doing so.

"No…it's okay. Leave it. I like it." Carley reassured with a chuckle. She gripped Lee's hand and caressed it.

Lee felt relieved to see that Carley didn't interpret it in a bad way. The two of them coddled closer, shutting their eyes once again and enjoying their last few minutes of slumber. However they still kept a teensy and shy distance between their embrace.

* * *

Donna and Allen slept on the floor, next to one another. Billy and Ben shared a bed, whilst Lilly and Larry were concealed in the corner. Donna stared non-stop at the ceiling, her face bleak yet porting a faint smile, while her fingers were intertwined on top of her belly. She was still like a statue.

Allen yawned, shrouding a fist in front of his mouth. He was dumbstruck by his wife's deadened attitude. "What're you thinking?"

"I didn't know you were awake." Donna confided with a melody harmonized in her voice.

"Surprise." Allen mumbled back.

"I saw Dale and Andrea yesterday together…" Donna told him, gazing into his crow-feet eyes. "They both lost someone they loved…someone very close to them. It hit them hard, we saw that…but they eventually pulled out of it. Seeing them together last night—they're happy. Seeing them—knowing that they can put their lives back together…it gives me hope. And then there's this place. A chance to start over. A new place…all to ourselves, and if half of the houses in this neighborhood are as nice as this one we'll all be happy. This place—it's perfect. I think we can be happy here. And everyone we're with. They're good people. I can't believe we stumbled into finding people like them. We couldn't ask for better neighbors. We're really lucky."

"The ice queen melteth." Allen joked with a giggle. "You're right. If this works out we've got it made. It's been a while since I've seen you this happy. Hey…wanna have sex?"

"Don't even think about it!" Larry barked from his cot in a grumpy tone.

Billy and Ben hopped to the edge of their bed. "What's a segs?"

"That answer your question?" Donna quipped.

* * *

After a few minutes, everybody began getting on their feet, getting dressed, greeting each other and eating canned goodies. Not long after, Rick reunited everybody in the hall.

"Morning everyone. Today's the fun part—we're going to split into groups and search all of them houses. Or as many as we can. We're looking for canned goods, and supplies, first aid kits, and more importantly…making sure this place is secure and that there aren't any houseguests hiding inside like there were with this one." Rick spoke to the group. "Keep your guns out and be ready to fire. This is going to be dangerous so keep your eyes open and stay alert. Also, keep in mind that we'll all be spreading out into these houses after we secure them, so look them over, if you see one you like…keep it in mind. Looks like there's going to be more than enough to go around."

Clementine toiled Lee's sleeve, catching his attention. "Can I come with you?"

"Of course. But you're gonna have to be very careful and be next to me at all times." Lee agreed, followed by a caution warning.

"I will." Clementine concurred with a nod.

"Okay, now I'm gonna form a few teams." Rick declared. He stood silent for a few seconds, mentally assigning members to a team. "Donna, Allen, Doug and T-Dog are a team. Kenny, Katjaa and Daryl, you're another. Lee and Carley, you're together. Finally, myself, Lori, Glenn and Dale will be another. Everybody okay with this?"

Rick motioned with his hand so the group would follow him out the door. In a line, the colony of people began squeezing through the doorposts, ecstatic to check out the households. Andrea, Carol, Lilly and Larry were the only ones who stayed back watching the kids. Larry didn't really want to do it, but he didn't leave his daughter's side.

"My team, let's start on the door on other side of the street!" Rick yelled, beaming his finger at the opposite house. The group gawked with enthusiasm the quaint mansions, that seemed to just be waiting to be explored. "Allen, take your team into the next house. The rest of you, pick a house but don't stray off too far."

"This is going to be so fun!" Donna remarked, whilst her group followed suit. She could spot Rick's group sauntering inside the house next to theirs, while on the parallel road Kenny's and Lee's teams both chose a different house to discover. "Like one of those home shows but better."

"Yeah." Allen said with little conviction, his Glock 17 clutched in his hand. "Assuming all of these houses are empty."

"Doug and I are gonna check out the backyard." T-Dog stated, jabbing his finger at the slender passage that led to the backyard. "Shouldn't take long."

"Okay, but be careful." Allen warned with an austere expression. "We'll go check around by the garage."

"Gotcha." Doug certified with a nod, before he and T-Dog vanished into the yard.

"Y'know, that fence back at the St. Johns got my creativity jogging." Doug confided to T-Dog with a grin.

"Whatcha thinkin'?" T-Dog enquired, despite not feeling much intrigued with whatever blueprints he was cooking up.

"If we could settle down in this place, I could perhaps up some kind of alarm around the fences." Doug conjectured. "If I had enough wire…it could stretch out throughout the entire perimeter, and would warn us if any walkers came along."

"Hmm…that's not a bad idea actually." T-Dog commentated, with a 'not bad' facial expression.

Donna lurked around the shattered windows and the open doorframe. She was itching to see how the interior was, but she had to wait for T-Dog to give the all clear. "I think I'm gonna take a peek inside."

"Don't go all the way in just yet, hon'. Wait for T-Dog to tell us it's clear. Just peep through the windows and see if you see anything."

"You worry too much." She dissed him off, but before he took a step inside the house, a sole gunshot froze her.

* * *

The second the single gunfire rang throughout the community, Lee jerked his head towards the side and gently pushed himself and Clementine onto a crouching position. "Get down!"

Lee and Clem slithered towards the fence that separated their house from the next one, whilst Carley had her gun prepared and followed Lee, in a squat. Taking a peep through the corner, Lee could spot the rest of the teams hiding behind the houses or the fences, gaping in every direction to find the source.

Carley peeked towards the gate. "Oh no…this isn't good, Lee."

An expression of confusion struck Lee, before he leaned over the corner and saw what the female reporter had seen. Outside the main gate, a station wagon, a pick-up and a box van were all piled up. On top of the pick-up's hood, stood a man bearing a darkened ski mask, a 'Hard-Ass' polo and a Beretta Inox. By his sides, Lee counted ten other people, all of them disguised in looter clothing – masks, sunglasses, bandanas, hoodies, sweatshirts, leather jackets and all of them were equipped with crossbows, pistols and rifles.

"Whoever is the leader of this dog shit group, get your scrawny ass out here!" The man erected on the vehicle's hood yelled, his voice a bit muffled by his mask. His gun was raised in the air; he was probably the one who fired the warning shot.

Lee looked at Rick, who crouched along with his group in another nearby house. Rick glimpsed back, and the two men began talking telepathically. Rick did a motion with his hand; indicating them to go out in the open. At first, he thought that he was out of his mind to obey to the bandits' leader, but he also knew that he wasn't deranged and he had gotten the group out of worst.

"Carley, I'm going out there." Lee informed with conviction, reaching for his gun and cocking it. "Be my backup."

"What?! It's dangerous out there! Please don't go!" Clementine beseeched with a clear preoccupation.

Lee gripped Clem's shoulders. "Listen, Clem…ever since the beginning…I've been lucky. Remember the St. Johns? We got out of there alive. This time…it won't be different…okay?"

Clem didn't respond, just shifted her gaze away. "You sure it's a good idea?" Carley verified that he was sure.

"Yeah. Just prepare for shit to hit the fan." Lee cautioned, before getting on his feet, raising his hands and coming out of cover, while Rick imitated him.

"Enough of this bullshit!" The leader impatiently hollered, turning to one of the bandits. He wore the typical bandit outfit, and his name was Drew. "Drew, get ready to ram the motherfuckin' gate!"

"Yeah!" Drew cheered with enthusiasm.

As the two men approached the gate, the leaded beamed his gun at them. "Hold it, assholes!"

"Take it easy…" Lee alleviated, as he and Rick advanced towards them, their arms up.

"Why in the fuck are you doing this?!" Rick demanded, infuriated. Those guns didn't intimidate him; for him that was math in the academy. "Just leave us the fuck alone!"

"WHY?!" The bandit repeated, jostling his gun. "Because we gotta! That's why!"

"What do you want from us?!" Lee demanded, as Rick and Lee halted a few feet away from the gate. Glenn's pizza car was a couple steps backwards distant.

"We wanna take this place!" The bandit clamored with anger. "Get your pitiful asses outta here, let us in and give us all of yer supplies! In exchange, we'll let you live! How's that for a deal?!"

Lee nervously espied Rick's blighted expression, and vice-versa. The two thought long and hard about that deal. The negative answer was quite obvious; the difficult part was to conceive a plan to dodge the shootout.


	25. Dead Don't Kill Their Own

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 25 – The Dead Don't Kill Their Own**

Lilly was bucked against the window, her face almost touching the cold glass. Outside, she saw the duo of leaders ambling towards the gate. A throng of men – the kind you cross the street just so that you don't have to walk in the same curb as them - accrued outside the gate. Andrea and Jacqui were keeping Billy, Ben, Duck, Sophia and Carl distracted, albeit the kids suspected something was up. Larry paced around the room and grumbled unintelligible things. Carol hugged her daughter, faking the fact that she was scared sick. A tension paired around the room, emanating from the unpredictability of the scene. Lilly witnessed the scene in horror, until she couldn't take it and decided to take action.

She gripped the nearest safari sniper rifle and strummed through the room towards the staircase, attracting the kids' attention. "Lilly, what're you gonna do?!" Jacqui inquired, leaping onto her feet from the chair she previously sat in.

Lilly stopped mid-way, turning to face Andrea with a strong grip on the rifle. "Lee and Rick are in a tight spot! I'm getting them out of it!"

"Lilly, don't risk your life for those two losers!" Larry complained in his loud, rude voice that startled the tykes.

"I'll be fine!" Lilly argued back with a fire in her voice, before marching up the stairs.

She burst through the door into the nearest room. On the opposite wall, she identified a closed window. She ran up to it, getting her feet tangled in the sheets and sleeping rolls strewn across the space, almost tripping over, but still she got there. She pushed the creaky window open, before positioning the barrel of the rifle on the windowsill and squatting to improve stability.

She glanced through the scope, steadying the gun. She could watch a magnified and glassy vision of Lee and Rick nervously looking at each other, while the bandit on top of the hood was impatient and holding a pistol at them, and the bandits surrounding him were prepared to fight.

She gave the sniper rifle a gentle nudge. Placing the leader bandit's head between the crosshairs…

* * *

Lee and Rick peered back at the bandit. They couldn't find a plausible thing to say, so they were already working their muscle memory to flee behind Glenn's car. They felt like there wasn't a way out, since all of the looters had their gun aimed at them, and if they moved the smallest muscle, all it would take was for one of them to pull the trigger and they would end up dead.

However, a gunshot rang through the air, striking the leader right in the forehead. His ski mask showed a thin hole, through which was spraying out blood like a fountain. His eyes sprang open, in a dernier, final death spasm. The leader succumbed to his knees, making the hood of the pick-up rattle, before he fell to the floor with a hard impact on the asphalt.

"They killed Bart!" Somebody shouted from parts unknown.

"Christ!" The bandit that was closest to him named Drew gasped. Rags and sunglasses covered his tanned, ebony skin.

Lee and Rick then realized that the bandits were distracted, too shocked and weren't reacting. Their guns were firm in place, but their gazes locked on Bart's dead figure. This was their chance.

Lee whipped out his Glock 17. He wobbled his aim around, indecisive on who to shoot first, until his instincts highlighted the goateed man called Gary. He fired a round, that struck him through his sunglasses' lens and imploded his eyeball into a mess of fovea and vitreous gel. Even before his corpse hit the ground, Rick had already unsheathed his Colt Python and shot Drew right in the forehead and shot at another bandit called Linda, who was probably the only girl in the group. He killed those two people with the efficiency of a skilled cowboy.

Lee and Rick darted behind the pizza vehicle. After those shots were fired, a warfare action initiated. The bandits bolted behind cover, abaft the fence and their automobiles, doing their best to remain hidden from the sniper. They jogged from one place to the other, preparing for the imminent skirmish. Safeties were unlocked, clips bobbed in and barrels rose towards the enclosed community through gaps in the iron rods. One of the bandits, Jake, who had the Mohawk and exaggerated tattoos of a punk, was already marching inside the box van to ram the gate in.

For now there wasn't any crossfire. Rick took the chance to roll open his revolver, let the empty cartridges collapse and make a ringing noise on the ground, and loaded two more rounds. Lee just popped out the magazine and checked ten bullets, before impelling it back in. "This doesn't have to get any worst!" Rick yelled to the bandits, his Python clutched in his hand. "You can just go away! We'll never cross paths again!"

The bandits screamed a few things they couldn't understand. They could listen to the van's engine roaring to life. "I don't think they're backing off!" Lee observed with a howl, peeping through the car. He caught a glimpse of the van being placed in a position rolling in reverse, but was then greeted with a bullet that shattered the headlight, making Lee recoil his head back to safety. "Fuck!" He profaned; his heart beating faster due to the close call.

They heard a deafening screech, coming from the van's tires that shrieked due to the friction against the remnants of the melting snow. The next second, the shrieking sound augmented, and the vehicle tackled the gate head on. The gate was blown off its hinges with a high-pitched chirr, while the van drove right inside the Wiltshire Estates, passing by Rick and Lee. Rick and Lee backed away a little, as they gawked, horrified, as one of the gate's iron doors landed on the roof of Glenn's car, denting it with the depth of a crater and shattering both the windshield and all of the windows, sending iotas of glass on top of them, that they had to shake off.

Lilly fired at Jake, but despite her weaponry training back at Robin's Air Force Base, she wasn't no expert sniper and the loose bullet missed by a mile. The impact of the gate made the van wobble, while Jake twitched the steering wheel desperately to control the vehicle. He crushed the brakes and harshly halted in front of the house Kenny, Katjaa and Daryl were.

"Stay back!" Kenny instructed over to Katjaa, who hid behind the corner of the house. Kenny and Daryl stood by the front yard, both of them brandishing their rifle and crossbow respectively.

Kenny discerned Jake's figure inside the van, through the smoky windows. Butting the stock of the rifle against his shoulder, he took aim and fired at him. However, just in time, Jake predicted this and swapped into a lying position, stretched out on both the driver and passenger seat. He clouted his ears with his palms. Kenny's fired bullet blasted into tiny shining fragments, that scattered all throughout the vehicle. Jake curled into a ball, while Kenny shot three more rounds that pierced the lateral door, but only scraped Jake's leather vest and resulted in a minor chop.

"He's mine!" Daryl howled, girding his crossbow and meticulously trekking towards the van, with small and offensive steps.

Kenny tugged his wife out of the corner. "C'mon, Kat. We gotta get to the RV!"

* * *

Now that the only entrance had been breached, Rick and Lee shrunk behind the car to prevent nabbing a bullet. Three bandits – Burt, Johnny and Will – were pushing their way through the main road using the station wagon. Two pushed the vehicle for cover, while the remaining one fired at the hiding duo. The other three bandits – Wesley, Henry and Clayton – did the same drill with the pick-up truck.

Their little convoy stopped once they were right next to Glenn's car. Rick and Lee moved a bit further along their cover, so that they wouldn't be at an angle that made them easy targets. Lee rose his chest lightly, releasing an array of bullets at the bandits behind the station wagon. The trio of hooligans simply ducked, avoiding the bullets whilst Will returned fire, forcing Lee back down.

"We're a bit pinned down here!" Lee stated, grinding his teeth. Dozens of bullets ricocheted off Glenn's car, puncturing holes in the hood, the roof, the trunk and popping the taillights. One of the projectiles hit one of the wheels, made clear by the hiss sound.

His prayer seemed to be answered, when Lilly's rifle barked from a couple houses away, and pummeled Johnny in the neck. The bandit fell on the concrete sideways, grasping his neck that violently gushed out blood as his legs squirmed in a futile attempt to hold onto dear life. After a few seconds, his body became pale and his movements stopped.

"Lilly will cover us!" Rick hollered, firing a couple of blind shots at the bandits. "I have an idea! I'll stay here and I'll cover you, while you run to the RV! Once you're there, you'll cover me!"

"I ain't too sure…" Lee said, but a bullet that obliterated the side-view mirror interrupted him.

"It's the only way! Get ready!" Rick insisted. Lee sighed, orating that he would make it, as he spun around in his crouched position, facing the RV. It was posited at least five meters away from him.

"GO!" Rick commanded, rabbiting out of protection and furiously emptying his ammunition on the bandits. He hit Henry in the shoulder, while at the same moment, Lee dashed towards the RV with the determination of an Olympic runner.

* * *

Carley peeped through the corner. She could see Rick and Lee straggling to keep in cover, while those bandits essayed to push their convoy. She spotted Kenny and Katjaa who sprinted towards the RV, probably trying to switch it on and get the group out of there.

Seeing that the bandits mostly had their fire concentrated on Rick and Lee, Carley conjectured that she could get to the camper, with Clementine.

"Clementine." Carley turned to Clem, regarding her with a serious expression. The girl's furrowed brows transmitted onto Carley her feeling of worry of Lee. "We gotta run to the RV. Okay? We're gonna find a way to help Lee."

"Okay." Clem replied. If it involved aiding Lee, she didn't even hesitate.

Carley latched onto Clementine's hand, as they both exited their creeping position. They ran towards the RV, Clem almost toppling due to the adult's speed. Once they reached it, Kenny and Katjaa met them at the same time by the camper's door.

"Ken! Kat! Glad to know you're okay!" Carley accosted with a warm smirk.

Kenny didn't even look at her. He donned a deadpanned expression. Things were going too fast for him to stop and think. "Same thing." He bluntly said, before opening the door and heeding Katjaa. "Honey, think you can man the RV?"

"I…I don't know!" Katjaa sputtered, her hands shaking. All of the fast events were making her super stressed out, and she was a complete nervous wreck.

Kenny placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping to quickly soothe her. "Dale said he kept the keys in the dash! All I need you to do is get inside and get the RV up and runnin'."

"What about Ducky?" Katjaa inquired with a throbbing tone.

"Don't worry." Kenny calmed her down in a more genuine tone. "I'll get the kids here!"

Katjaa nodded, before vanishing inside the hefty vehicle. Lee emerged from the corner, panting, while they could hear the bullets chirping away the side of the camper.

"Lee!" Clementine exclaimed, before she absconded towards Lee, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

Lee slow and gently detached from her. "Hey sweet pea. It's not safe out here, get in the RV. It's gonna be okay."

Clementine nodded, before she vanished inside the camper. The bullets whistled and whizzed in all directions. Kenny approached Lee, shoving his rifle into his hands. "Cover our people and get 'em to the RV!" He ordered, before he entered the vehicle to aid his wife. Lee could hear the engine growling, but it never once successfully started up.

Lee headed towards one end of the wagon, while Carley cocked her gun and directed herself to the other edge.

Lee peeped through the corner, looking down his scope. Lilly's gun fired again, but it didn't hit anything or anyone. The bandits weren't able to advance with their vehicles, and arrays of bullets flamed Glenn's car. Rick could no longer shoot at them; the slightest motion and their guns blazed onto him.

"Fuck! I can't get a clear shot!" Carley complained, fidgeting her aiming notch in all directions.

Lee didn't find a good place to shoot either. The sole thing he could do was cover Rick. He fired one round at the bandits, which fractured the windshield of the pick-up. He continued with the suppressing fire, shooting random rounds into the vehicles that gradually decayed into amounts of shot-up junk. The looters, who now cared more about being protected rather than catapulting bullets towards Rick, were ceasing their bombardment.

Rick rushed towards the RV, but he tripped halfway. The momentum sent him flying across the asphalt, until the brute and sudden impact lacerated his cheeks and opened a scratch in his stubble that was bleeding. The bandits began noting the opportunity. Lee ran towards the fallen Rick, whilst Carley took the courtesy of keeping him defended by making her Beretta Inox bark towards the opponents. It still didn't avoid a bullet that went cleanly through Lee's shoulder.

Lee gripped Rick's armpits, dragging him behind the camper in a repent movement. Lee tried to ignore his shoulder's pain as much as he could. Their bodies created muffled sounds as Lee hauled Rick through the concrete. Rick grunted, utilizing the RV to get on his feet. His face was wry with tiny bruises, trims, nicks and dust. He moved with a slight difficulty, trying to recuperate. "Thanks man."

"No problem." Lee grinned, patting him on the shoulder. "We look out for each other."

Rick jerked his face to the side, before his expression stiffed. "Oh shit…get the kids outta the house! Daryl's in trouble! "

* * *

Daryl stood by the van, just a few millimeters distant from the driver's door. His back was cautiously butted against the vehicle, with his crossbow erected in a vertical position within his hands. He was waiting for his adversary to make a move first. Two gunshots burst through the lateral door, creating holes in the metal, but they didn't hit Daryl.

Daryl gripped the handle and yanked the door. The first thing he noticed was Jake's booted foot laying on the seating. Using only one hand, he clasped Jake's ankle. "Get out here, you fuckin' punk!" Daryl war-cried, wrenching Jake out of the truck.

Jake screeched, as he was ripped out of the van and collided on the floor. His sunglasses shattered and slithered off his ears. Daryl hurtled and towered above Jake, aiming his loaded crossbow towards Jake's temple. Jake beamed his gun at Daryl, and pressed the trigger. Only a click was emitted. "You gonna regret you attacked us, you-"

With the speed of a racing kart, Jake got onto a seating position and used his legs to impulse himself. He tackled Daryl, sending the two men felling on the ground. Daryl accidentally pressed the trigger, making the arrow whoosh through the air whilst the string rebounded and made an echoing noise. Daryl tumbled on his back, while Jake dominated him by sitting on his stomach.

Jake slid a knife off a holster, that made a metallic sound on the exit. "Final destination, bud." He said with the coldness of ice in his voice.

But as he descended the blade upon Daryl, the latter grasped his crossbow and barred the knife, making the two weapons stop each other in mid-air. Both men shoved their armaments in the opposite direction, sweating and rumbling, in a desperate attempt to keep them away from each other.

Jake punched Daryl in the gut, weakening him. Taking the opportunity of a brief window, he managed to snatch his crossbow off his hands. The redneck coughed and struggled to get the man off his tummy. Despite his strength, Jake was a bulky dude. Jake tossed Daryl's weapon to his side, and it drifted along the pavement. Jake grinned, preparing once again the knife.

"Stop!" Jake raised his head in astonishment, as a voice called out to him. Jake's eyebrows elevated, when he saw Rick with the posture of a Delta Commando, targeting him with his Python.

Jake neared his knife to Daryl's throat, that was as though as leather. "Fuck you! You drop the gun! I'll kill-"

Rick's revolver drummed, a bullet landing right on Jake's forehead. The bandit's head snapped back, the casing ricocheting inside his skull. A severed artery made a thin stream of blood ooze out of his head, cascading on Daryl's facial expressions. Daryl shuttered his eyes, wavering his head to shake off the blood. Jake was deadened, his corpse as manipulative as a ragdoll, before his cadaver collapsed to the floor.

Daryl got up, groaning and picking his crossbow back up. "I could've handled him on my own!"

"Whatever! Just come and help everybody get to the RV!" Rick roared.

* * *

Carley slithered towards the end of the camper. The firefight was intense. Luckily, chaos hadn't spread. Despite a few of the teams being holed up in cover, too scared to flee, they weren't running around like headless chickens.

But they had to be quick on their escape. Carley now noticed that handfuls of walkers were appearing from everywhere. From the windows and doorframes of the houses, from the exterior forest…fortunately for them, a zombie chewed Wesley in the neck. That was one less bandit for them to deal with.

On the nearest house, Allen, Donna, T-Dog and Doug were all crouched behind the wooden fence, too frightened to leave. "C'mon! I'll cover you."

The quartet of survivors readied themselves to run. T-Dog and went first, sprinting as fast as they could whilst keeping the lowest stance possible. "Christ!" T-Dog sputtered, once he reached the camper.

"Get inside!" Carley commanded, indicating the way whilst glimpsing at them.

But once she turned her head back at Allen and Donna, she was petrified with horror. They both were facing the respective house with their backs. A walker – who was a bald, Save-Lots worker with a vest with the name tag 'Fred' emerged from the murk of the door, and advanced towards Donna.

"Donna!" Carley warned with a shaky tone.

Donna let out a confused sound, before she turned her head. Before she could even recognize what was happening, the undead store clerk was already in front of her. The monster wrapped its teeth around Donna's face, and squeezed her cranium. She yelled, so loud that it rang out for miles. The walker crushed her face with more pressure, before yanking his head back. Within his teeth, he took with him a mouthful of skin and flesh. Donna's skull and muscle tendons were showing, before she collapsed on the ground, her jaw battering in a final spasm while the grass was tainted with oozing blood.

"NOOOO!" Allen exclaimed, dashing towards his wife. But Rick intervened just in time, placing his hand on his chest and stopping him from continuing.

"She's gone, Allen!" Rick said, his voice wobbling with emotion and his eyeball shining from his watery tears, that he blinked away.

"Just leave me here, Rick!" Allen pleaded, the tears bursting out of his eyes, staring as the zombified Fred kneeled down over Donna's dead corpse, digging his jaws further into her face and munching on her cranium.

"You know I won't do that!" Rick responded, before pushing him away. Allen squirmed and whimpered, but Rick was stronger than him, and gently shoved him inside the RV. "Don't worry. We'll get your kids."

Daryl rose his crossbow, and took the courtesy of shooting Fred through the temple. "Jesus…can't even imagine what he's going through." Carley mumbled.

"There's no time now." Lee intervened, without being too abrupt. At the same moment, the bandits were now gaining terrain on them, pushing their convoy further. "We gotta get the kids outta the house."

"You'll get blown away the second you step away from this RV!" Kenny screamed, the interior of the vehicle dampening his voice.

"Shit! What do we do?!" T-Dog uttered.

"I got an idea!" Doug said, before yanking a hammer from T-Dog's belt. In a split second, the group watched as he marched towards the hood.

"What're you doing?!" Lee demanded.

Doug kept his head low as he lifted the hood. He began banging on the engine; the sound of the blows being suppressed by the flying bullets. "I'm fixing this!" He said, pausing for a few seconds. More hits on the engine followed. "There! Try it!"

As Doug slithered back into cover, they were glad to hear the engine fire up, the exhaust releasing smoke. The motor let out a throbbing, strong twitter as Kenny was swapping places with Katjaa inside the car. Not long after, Kenny began backing up at a slow pace, allowing the survivors to walk along towards the house where the kids were. The incoming horde was nearing itself at a worrying speed, and they were going to be soon cornered by the bandits and the lurkers.

Rick and T-Dog sprinted inside the house, once the RV was butted against the fence surrounding the front-yard. Doug rushed inside the camper for protection. Carley and Lee both dashed towards a different edge of the vehicle, as they leaned from the corners and shot at the invaders.

Rick tackled the door in, splintering it on its hinges. The people inside flinched from the sudden barge in, but Rick couldn't waste time now. "Everybody, get to the RV!" He yelled, before noticing that two people were missing. "Where the hell's Lilly and Larry?"

"They went upstairs!" Andrea informed, organizing the kids.

T-Dog and Rick glanced behind their shoulders, and were shocked to see that the walkers were going to be on top of the house in a minute perhaps. "Fuck…there's no time!"

"We can't leave 'em behind!" Jacqui contradicted.

"We won't! I have a plan! Just trust me, c'mon!" Rick commanded, waving his arm outside.

Jacqui and Andrea obeyed with a nod, ushering the children out of the house. Rick mouthed the words 'love you' to Carl as he passed by, to which he replied the same thing. "What the hell are you planning to get Larry and Lilly outta there?!" T-Dog asked.

"You'll see. Now get in the camper!" Rick answered.

Everybody was on board, ready to leave that place. Carley saw that their escape was prepared, so she ran inside. Lee followed in her footsteps. Rick did the same, but when he stopped near the entrance, he looked up at the window through which he saw Lilly.

"Jump!" Rick hollered, shelling his mouth, before vanishing inside.

Lilly removed her eye away from the scope, before slinging her rifle on her shoulder. "Fuck!" She profaned, as she slid the window up and passed one leg across.

"Jesus, Lilly! What're you doing?!" Larry inquired.

"We gotta jump!" She told him, not hesitating as she stepped on the inclined roof supported by columns. Driven by the force of fear and adrenaline, she leaped on top of the RV, weakening the fall with her hands as she bent her knees.

Larry sighed, shaking his head. He was a bit reluctant, to the point that he considered not to do it, but when he heard a languish moaning coming up the household, he immediately reconsidered, sloppily exiting through the window. "The things I do…"

He hopped right near Lilly, who helped him as he clashed against the camper. The old man fell to the side from the impact, his sore and ancient muscles aching in a complaint. "Oh my God…you okay?!"

"Yeah…just drive the fuck off!" Larry barked like an angry sergeant.

Kenny chose another gear, putting the medal to the pedal. The RV departed without a warning, which caused the G-force to shove them from one side to the other. Larry and Lilly both lied down, to avoid getting hit. Kenny speeded out of the community, knocking over fallen guns and crunching broken glass, while the bandit Clayton was run over.

**A/N: I guess we had a different pace in this chapter. I tried to aim here for a bit more action-packed chapter, because every good zombie story has a decent balance between character and action. I wanted to make this longer, but the length was becoming ludicrous. Sorry for taking a bit more than usually, but I was taking my time to do a thorough editing, because I really wanted this to come out good. I tried to cover a bit of what everyone was doing during the attack, but due to the character abundance I might have overlooked some. Excuse me if I did. Tell me what you thought of it. One good thing about Donna dying is that it's one less character to deal with! See ya next time!**


	26. Eclipsed

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 25 – Eclipsed**

Kenny twisted the wheel, making the curve around the fence. The RV drove off the endless road, bumping around in holes and carvings. As they gained speed, Wiltshire Estates vanished in the horizon, and the sounds of the chaos faded out little by little.

Allen sat in the edge of the back seating, his face buried into his hand and his eyelids secreted the salty tears. He hiccupped and sobbed, his belly contracting inside and out, followed by sniffles and groans escaping his lips. Billy and Ben sat beside him, with confused expressions stamped onto their visages.

"Where's mommy?" Billy inquired.

"She's—your mother has—I-" Allen stuttered, his lips tightening and quivering, followed of another sobbing convulsion that bent him in two. "She's dead! Your mother is dead!"

Seeing that he needed nurturing, Jacqui grasped the man in a hug. The rest of the group viewed the reunion passively, too unsure on what to do. Billy and Ben looked at each other, baffled, like they hadn't understood what their father had said. Clementine approached Lee. The man peeked down, shaking his head negatively. Clem gazed at the ground, with a sad frown and her drooped mouth. In the meanwhile, the road kept stretching out in the horizon and the trees passed by them in the form of green blurs.

* * *

Once they deemed they were far enough, Dale stopped. They surely needed a break. Lilly and Larry were glad to get off the camper's roof, plus the vehicle was low on gas. Glenn already had his jerrican and transparent tube at hand. He headed towards a nearby dirty, black car, and began pumping fuel from the deposit.

Allen exited the RV, marching towards the edge of the road. He stared at the dense forest. Rick followed him, stopping beside him. "I'm sorry Allen…" Rick said, scratching his head. "I just…I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. Just leave me alone." Allen bluntly responded.

Lee stepped off the vehicle, with Clementine right by his tail. Clem looked down the road they had come from. "Are the bad people gone?"

"Of course, sweet pea." Lee asserted. "Don't worry about that."

"I, uh…" Clementine mumbled, rummaging inside her backpack. "I did this for you yesterday."

Clementine passed onto his hand a sheet of paper. Inspecting it, Lee cracked a smile at seeing that it was a slurred drawing of a leaf, with slick contours forming its shape.

"It's called a leaf rubbing." Clementine explained.

Lee almost felt guilty at smiling. "It's great sweet pea." Lee folded the paper and stored it in his pocket. "See… why don't you go and draw inside the RV?"

Clementine didn't really feel like doing it now, but she obeyed nonetheless, and entered the camper. "Okay." She rumbled.

Lee folded his arms, seeing Clementine disappearing inside the vehicle. He stood there, pondering. He knew that Clem was just an eight-year old, but he knew that she was wise, understanding, clever. She was also a tough cookie to crack, and he wondered how all of the past events had affected her. She didn't show much…but that doesn't mean she didn't feel anything.

Lilly and Larry climbed down the lateral ladder on Dale's camper. Larry carefully climbed down, grunting at each step. Lilly patted Larry on the back once both of them touched the ground.

"You guys okay?" Lee asked, approaching them.

"Yeah! Fine as a jolly sunny day!" Larry sarcastically barked, brushing past Lee, hitting him on the shoulder on his passage.

Lilly sighed, butting her fist against her hip and inclined her posture a bit. "Sorry…you just know how he is."

"It's…okay. I'm sure he's a great guy." Lee reassured, albeit in a non-convinced tone and with a twisted mouth.

"He is…he just has his problems." Lilly answered.

"Thanks a lot for back there…you saved us." Lee thanked, facing Lilly with a grateful expression.

"At least you came back for us." Lilly retorted.

"I'm, uh…sorry." Lee said, scratching his hair and lowering his head, followed by a gulp. "I'm sorry you had to jump on top of the RV."

"My dad and I are alive. That's as much as I can ask." Lilly smirked.

"So…how's the pill situation?" Lee dared to ask, with a preoccupied expression.

Lilly sighed, scrubbing her eyes with her fingertips. "It's bad. We ran out yesterday. I've been able to keep him calm, but I'm not sure if he'll make it."

"We're gonna have to find a pharmacy soon." Lee remarked, thinking that finding medicine nowadays was probably easier said than done.

* * *

Doug was sitting in the passenger seat of the camper, tapping his fingers against the dash and insufflating his cheeks with air. He regarded Glenn siphoning gas, and the multiple group members speak outside. During that moment of passivity, Doug was putting his creative juices working, trying to find ideas for little contraptions he could do to help the group. One thing he already had in mind, was that maybe with the right materials, he could build a solar panel, if the group ever happened to settle.

Glimpsing at the rearview mirror, he saw Allen at the side of the road, with Rick near him. Doug exhaled, frowning his brows. "I'm worried about him."

Dale flicked his eyes toward Doug in his hollowed-out and rugged orbits. "What good is that gonna do? The only thing we can do to fix Allen is bring back his wife…and we can't do that. Just let him mourn—for as long as it takes. You don't know what it's like to lose a spouse, Doug. He's going through hell right now. I know."

* * *

"…and the dinosaur was like, POW, POW, POW! And he was like, super-toasted and then…"

Duck's repetitive and annoying speech about the comic issue he read seemed like a looping disk – it just repeated after each sentence. Kenny and Katjaa watched their son with a faint smile, which attracted their hands toward one another. They thanked the Lord every day that Duck didn't pay much attention to everything that was going on, and that the apocalyptic events just passed right by him. He was always cheerful and playful…

But Katjaa knew how this would backfire on them in the future.

"Ken…?" Katjaa muttered, kicking a pebble and looking at Kenny with a more austere expression.

"What is it, hon'?" Kenny quizzed, facing Katjaa, his eyes fixed on Duck.

"For how long are we gonna keep lying to our son?" Katjaa said.

Kenny's wrinkles constrained, and his expression became heavier, like an anvil had fallen on top of him. "What do you mean?"

"Back when we were leaving camp in Atlanta…I think Larry was right." Katjaa told him, in a oppressing serious tone. "We have to tell our son that those people—Mark, Shane, Amy, Jim—he needs to know that they're dead."

"Kat…c'mon, you know we can't just say that to Duck!" Kenny disagreed, bugging his eyes. "Look at him…he's joyous. Why should we take that away from him?"

"I'm just afraid that he won't be able to adapt to this world…" Katjaa confessed, sliding a hand through her arm, lowing her head.

"Isn't that what we want to avoid? I thought we were aiming at keeping Duck the way he is." Kenny replicated, crossing his arms. His grin vanished with the breeze and he chewed the tip of his lip underneath his horseshoe mustache.

"I know…I don't want him to change, really, I don't…" Katjaa declared, her voice throbbing for a split second. "But if he doesn't know what out here, how will he survive?"

"We'll protect him." Kenny said the first thing that came to mind.

Katjaa let out a feeble giggle. "We can't always be around him, you know. There will be a day in which we'll lower our guard, and our little boy won't know how to protect himself."

"So what do you propose? Give him a gun?" Kenny proposed in a sarcastic tone, knowing how terrible that suggestion was.

"No…but look at Lee. He tells Clementine everything." Katjaa exemplified, waving her arm in Lee's direction, who had his back on them and was chatting with Lilly.

"This isn't about age. It's about maturity. Duck's too absent-minded to know the unspeakable shit we go through every day!" Kenny argued. The arguments were starting to become a discreet dispute.

"Just hear me out…" Katjaa remarked. Kenny opened his mouth to speak, but Katjaa quickly cut him off. "No, Kenny…I know what this might and might not do to him…I really didn't want to do this…but I'd rather have our son alive and prepared for the worst, that have him living in a lie…look at everybody we've lost so far…I don't want him to have the same fate…I just want what's best for him…"

The couple crumbled into silence, as Kenny adjusted his hat and his mullet-hair. Kenny finally sighed, giving in. "You're right…I guess do it now?" Kenny said. Katjaa responded with a nod.

Katjaa nodded. Letting out a breath, Kenny and Katjaa marched toward Duck, already readying the speech in their heads. Carl was leaning against the camper, the tip of his sheriff hat shadowing his visage. Duck continually spat mindless words at him, albeit Carl's mind had long drifted off and he no longer listened to him.

"Hey, Duck…wanna cool it for a moment?" Kenny halted him, surprised by the speed of his words. Duck looked at his parents, whilst Carl nudged his head, probably relieved that they had got him off the hook. "Listen…Carl, could you excuse us for a moment."

Carl nodded, before getting back on his feet. He stretched his fingers, before bustling out of the scene. Duck gazed at the clueless Kenny and Katjaa, wondering what they wanted to tell him.

"Listen, Duck…" Kenny began, kneeling down to his height and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You remember…back at camp…when…" Kenny made intervals between his disastrous words.

Katjaa, seeing that her husband was embarrassing himself and making no sense, gave a step forward. "What daddy's trying to say is that we that we know that you should know the absolute truth."

"About what?" Duck enquired, hoping they hadn't found out about the pranks he pulled on Clementine. His voice was grave and low as if in a purr.

"We want to talk to you about why Donna isn't coming with us." Katjaa elucidated, talking in the sweetest tone she could pull off.

"Oh. She's dead, isn't she?" Duck said in an inferior pitch, as he lowered his head.

Katjaa and Kenny exchanged looks for a split second. "Yes…that's right, son." Kenny said.

"We thought that you should know." Katjaa repeated, scratching her head, before the three grasped each other in a family hug.

* * *

As if in the hourglass had stopped time, T-Dog's impassivity was apparent. Sitting inside the camper, his apathetic fingers were holding a copy of Moby Dick. Despite his eyes being locked on the pages filled with text, he was thinking about what had happened just fifteen minutes ago. He was stuck on that page for what seemed like an eternity now and he wasn't quite able to focus and just read.

He was yanked out of his spell once he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning his head, T-Dog perceived Carol standing beside him, with her arms crossed and an ambivalent tension circling around her.

"Uh…yeah?" T-Dog blurted out, frowning.

"Hi, T-Dog." Carol greeted. She let out a heftier breath, before rubbing her hand against her other arm.

"Somethin' you need?" He asked.

"Yeah…actually…I was wondering if you could get something for me." Carol said.

"Hmm?" T-Dog hummed, becoming a bit more curious, as he adjusted his torso in the seating in order to face Carol.

"Do you happen to have…an extra gun on you?" Carol wondered.

T-Dog blinked, as if in his impassive trance was tugging him back in. He shook his head to dissolute that hypnosis. "Why do you even want one?"

"I'm just thinking…with everything that's happened, I think that a gun would make me feel safer at night." Carol confessed, before she noticed T-Dog's complex expression. "Actually, just forget about what I said…"

"No, no, no…" T-Dog intervened, making her halt dead on her tracks. T-Dog whipped out of his belt a six-shooter revolver, that he lent to her. "You'll need it more than I will."

"What about you?" Carol said, grabbing the gun. She almost dropped it, surprised by the unexpected weight. "Won't you need this?"

"My awl's been servin' just fine up until now." T-Dog reasserted him, before indicating the chair situated on the opposite side of the table. "Sit down. I'll show you how to use one."

Carol sat across T-Dog, having extreme care with the gun so that it wouldn't go off. She set down the revolver on the center of the table, before T-Dog picked it up with habile fingers and clicked in a lateral button, which made the cylinder slide to the side. "This is how you pop off the clip. You only got six shots, so make 'em count. Every time you gotta reload, you have to load a bullet into each slot." T-Dog shoved the cylinder back inside. "There's no safety, so you gotta be careful. If you want to make it safer, then keep the hammer high. It won't stop the gun from shooting though, so be careful. All you need to know now is that you should use the notch to know where you're aiming."

"How'd you learn to shoot?" Carol asked, leaning on her palm. "Shane teach you?"

"Not really." T-Dog denied, slithering his nails through his bald head. "Thing is…when I was a teen…I ran with a few bad thugs…"

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

* * *

After giving Clementine and Carley a goodbye hug, Lee now had his feet sunk in a freezing water. He tried to tell himself that maybe, he would succeed. Maybe he would. He tried to keep a little bit of faith within him. But a little voice from the deepest layers of his mind whispered to him that what he was doing was inutile.

Lee was walking barefoot inside a lake. The cold pierced his skin and reached the depths of his bone. The water lingered just below his knee. With a knife ready at his belt, and a spear crafted out of a sharpened branch clutched in his hand, Lee was essaying to catch whatever fish might have survived in that wide pond. His eyes flicked in every direction, always hopeful of catching a glimpse of a wading fish in the water, that created waves with each step he gave. In the reflection, he could see the gloomy sky and his worn, fatigued expression.

Rick accompanied Lee in his task. He too had an improvised spear in his hand, and the two men trekked a few meters away from each other through the lake. The pond was surrounded by a forest, that separated them from the rest of the group. It was still quite cold, but the snow had stopped. Only a few batches of snow dangled from the trees and the leaves.

"This is freaking useless." Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes with his stiff hand.

"C'mon…there's got to be something here." Lee replied, looking around him. For a split second, his sentence was deformed by a quivering jaw.

"I think we'd be better off at hunting." Rick stated.

"We can't afford to waste bullets." Lee said.

"We've been at this for half an hour, Lee." Rick told him, with a discreet raise in tone. His legs were tired and getting cramps, and he could barely take a step. "It's freezing. There oughta be other ways to find food."

"You're the one who suggested this." Lee killed that idea.

"Talk me about it." Rick agreed, with a throbbing pitch. "But now I'm regretting it."

Lee sighed. He halted dead on his tracks, beside Rick. He finally gave in, thinking now, more surely than ever, that what he was doing was useless and that they would be better off at sparing their energy for something else. "You're right…let's just go back."

Rick and Lee took a demi-turn, utilizing their legs to shove the water out of the way and drag themselves back to shore. They threw their lengthy spears on the water, which sunk into its icy profundity. The panorama was embedded in a swirling fog, and the wind bashed against them, sending shivers down their spines. The environment – devoid of any human, animal or undead activity – made it look like they were imprisoned in a never-ending limbo.

"I was thinking…the thing we need right now…is a goal. A destination." Lee exhaled, his breath turning into a cloud of fog in front of his nose. "We were planning to head to the CDC before everything happened…maybe it's time we get back on track."

"It's a good plan, Lee…" Rick agreed, but contradicted his words with a sad frown. "But will we even make it there?"

Lee frowned, snapping his head back slightly. "Rick…I know what you must be thinking…but we're so close. We've…you've led us all this far…"

"Four people are dead…" Rick remarked with a dragged breath.

"Twenty-two alive." Lee retorted with a faint smirk, as the two men returned back to camp.

* * *

"Alright, listen up everybody!" Lee hollered to the formed crowd in front of him. Carley was pacing around on top of the RV and Daryl tapped his foot as he quietly stood by an isolated corner. Each member of their gargantuan yet diminishing group was gathered in an ensemble in front of the camper. "Me and Rick, we talked, and we already have a next destination in mind. We're heading toward the CDC."

"Smells like another damned fiasco to me." Daryl commentated, interrupting him. Lee, along with a few more survivors, directed their glares towards him.

"What do you mean?" Lee asked with his brows furrowed. The thing he didn't right now was that crossbow redneck to be lowering the group's morale, with as low as it was already.

"I mean, just look at all the places we've been." Daryl hissed, shuffling his feet in the gravel road. "The dairy, the estates…they were all a pipe dream. Who tells you that the CDC will be any better?"

"It's the only place we can go." Rick riposted, placing his hands on his hips and narrowing his crow-feet eyelids. "We have to go somewhere we'll be safe, someplace that can find a cure. CDC's the perfect place. I don't suppose you got any better ideas?"

Daryl just decreased his head and snorted, kicking the ground discreetly. "Well, any objections?" Lee enquired, eyeing all of the people standing in front of him. Nobody pronounced a word. "Well…I guess we shouldn't waste any time. Into the RV."

"I'll stay on the roof." Carley said from above the vehicle. "It's already crowded as hell down there."

"Are you sure?" Lee certified. "If we have to brake sudden or take a quick curve, it might balance you off."

"I'm sure that I'll hold."

"Alright, then. Everybody, let's get to the CDC." Rick commanded.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed. In this chapter, I tried to give more spotlight for a few of the characters that were in the background, even if it was just one line or one action, so this time you can't say a certain character wasn't accounted for! See y'all next time.**


	27. Gleaming

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 27 – Gleaming**

**_Entry #013_**

_Edwin Jenner used to have the appearance of a brilliant and intelligent man, as shown by his white lab coat. But ever since the dead had risen, and he was trapped alone inside the high-tech facility, he swapped onto a different attire – a t-shirt reeking from sweat, wine stains and other ungodly stinking fluids and a pair of sport pants that were an extra number from his usual size._

_Edwin sat in an office chair, and pushed himself with his legs nearer the computer's camera. "Jenner here." He said to the screen. His voice was a bit hoarse and diminished. "It's day 194 since WILD-FIRE was declared, and 49 days ever since the virus went abruptly global. There's no clinical progress to report."_

_Edwin went silent. For a few seconds, he squeezed his lips and just stared at the camera. He didn't know what else to say. What else was there to say? He didn't even know why he was recording those entries. Perhaps to stop himself from going insane, by pretending that an actual living being would hear his words. But the truth was that he was truly alone, motivation faded little by little with each desolating day survived in the walls of the vast medical building._

* * *

**_Entry #019_**

_Edwin passed his tongue through his dried lips while he perused through a notebook. Browsing through the paper sheets, he stopped in one page, before turning his face to the camera. _

_ "__Item…I-I finally shut down the scrubbers to save power." Edwin stuttered to the webcam in a quavering voice. "I wish I could've done it a month ago. Too bad I didn't study engineering. Could've saved a lotta amps." Edwin concluded with a sip from his coffee mug, stamped with the CDC logo – a sphere with the initials, saying 'Center For Disease Control'._

* * *

**_Entry #024_**

_ "__Item…" Edwin said, his voice hoarser than last time. "I'm still not sleeping well." His appearance matched his words. His orbits were hollowed and dark circles were lodged around his eyelids. His blond hay-stubble was a bit lengthier since the last entry. He blinked at erratic patterns. "Can't seem to keep regular hours. Living underground doesn't help, not knowing if it's day or night." Edwin lowered his head. "I'm just feeling…very off-kilter these days." Edwin rose his head back to the camera. Taking a long sigh, he shut down the transmission._

* * *

**_END OF TRANSMISSION_**

Edwin stood in the decontamination chamber that was situated right outside one of the laboratories. He wore a blue hazard suit, that made him look like a bloated blob. His mask had a built-in transparent plastic sheet so that he could see things. Classic music was playing, because science proved that classical songs calmed scientists and helped them concentrate.

The sliding door slithered out of the way, and Edwin passed through with caution so that he wouldn't lose balance on the large suit.

The laboratory was a room that was adorned by numerous high-tech instruments. Impeccably white counters hauled microscopes, computer screens with tangible imagery, scales, metallic cases stamped with labels with complicated names, tubes, mini-coolers, machines whose functions were hard to understand, trays, experimentation vials and the list went on.

Edwin marched up to one of the walls, that comported two screen embedded into the wall. He clicked in each one's individual button, and the monitors lit up, exhibiting an array of numbers, lines and diagrams. He hobbled towards the nearest computer. In the screen, he could see a three-dimensional representation of a human head, whose brain was highlighted, even the most minimalistic detail of the brain's curves, lobes, stem, spinal cord and cerebellum.

Verifying that all of the digital information was set and correct, he moved towards the mini-cooler. Opening it, he found several trays, and he slid out the last one. With care, he placed it on the table, before shutting the mini-cooler again.

The tray had a slice of a putrid, bizarre flesh, labeled 'TS-19'.

Edwin picked up a pair of forceps, and fiddled around with the hunk of flesh. He removed a bit of the meat, and shoved it inside a vial.

Edwin switched his tool to a pipette, that was full of an acid substance. He dropped a single bead of acid into the vial where the flesh was contained, and immediately upon contact, the flesh began sizzling and effervescing. Bubbles boiled and the flesh was slightly dissolved. Edwin raised his hand a little bit to his eye-height and got a better look at the result.

He ran his arm across the table to pick up another utensil, but by destiny or purely bad luck, he batted down the vial containing the acid. The vial spilled its contents all over the starting samples. The acid provoked a sizzling combustion with the TS-19, and the digital system blared an alarm as the smoke hovered all the way to the smoke detector.

"_All personnel leave this room._" The virtual AI, nicknamed Vi, instructed. "_Corrosive elements detected. Corrosive elements can be toxic if inhaled._"

Edwin circled around the table and ran towards the decontamination chamber. The sliding door shut behind him. As he looked at his gloves, he saw that a drop of acid had fallen on his index finger. In a state of panic, Edwin removed the glove and saw a superficial, oblique hole corroded in his finger.

"_Decontamination imminent._" Vi said.

Edwin dissipated those thoughts and began stripping off his hazmat suit with an extreme hurry, almost tripping over his own legs. Sprinklers embedded into the walls began squirting water onto Jenner, who was now on his boxers and a black t-shirt. Edwin rose his arms and panted as the water drenched his body.

"_All personnel clear. Full decontamination in effect._" Vi said.

Edwin froze in place as he heard those words. He sprang around and leaped towards the door, but it wouldn't change anything.

"No!" Edwin howled, as the room was engulfed in flames.

Edwin snapped back as the room lit up and blinded his pupils. He buried his face in his hand. The system was designed to ignite the laboratory on fire in case any hazardous substances infected the place. It was all lost. When the flames disappeared into the air like magic, Edwin caught a glimpse of the sample zombie flesh, that was black and crispy.

"_Full decontamination complete._"

* * *

**_Entry #025_**

_A clearly distressed Jenner – who had his hair in a mess and sipped from a glass of wine – sat in front of the camera. "The TS-19 samples are gone. The tragedies of their loss cannot be overstated. They were our freshest samples by far." Edwin declared, kicking back in his chair and taking a large gulp out of the glass._

_ "__None of the other samples we gather ever came close." He disclosed. "Those are necrotic. Useless dead flesh. I don't even know why I'm talking to you. I bet there isn't a single son of a bitch out there still listening, is there? Is there?"_

_Silence._

* * *

**_END OF TRANSMISSION_**

Edwin stood up and ended the recording. "Fine. Saves me the embarrassment. I think tomorrow I'm gonna blow my brains out. I haven't decided. But tonight…! I'm getting drunk."

Edwin poured more wine to himself. When he noticed that it was empty, an idea recurred to him. "How much far do you think I can chuck this? Pretty far I bet."

Making a wide swing, Edwin tossed the bottle in a great height. He followed its trajectory through the air, until it disappeared above the cables, lamps and rods built into the ceiling. After a few seconds, he heard the glass shattering.

Edwin waved his arms in the air as a celebration. "It is out of the stadium!"

* * *

Lee opened the door to the RV. He looked towards the horizon, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was struck by a puzzled expression when he saw the massive building with the sign 'CDC'.

They had arrived. Dale's camper was stationary in the road, and behind were Daryl's bike along with a few other cars. Lee stepped off the camper, but his cheering was cut off once he saw an ocean of sandbag barricades, tanks, Hummers and military cadavers stretching all the way towards the medical facility.

"Stay close to me, sweet pea." Lee cautioned, as he whipped out his Glock 17 with one palm and clutched Clem's hand with the other.

Lee led the convoy of people who were stepping off their vehicles behind him. Carley followed him closely, flicking her eagled-eyes in all directions to make sure none of the bodies were actually walkers playing dead.

When they were all outside, they formed a structure of people and hurtled towards the edifice, eager to see if their promised land was true. They were forced to push their hands against their noses as the stench hovered around them and gave them nausea. The silence was filled with the flies' buzzing around the cadavers. Lee noticed that one of the dead soldiers bore a frag grenade on its belt. He thought that it could be useful and he picked it up in a quick movement before storing it on his shirt pocket.

The front façade had a row of five doors, that had metallic gates rolled down. Rick walked up to them and tried to pull them up, but they didn't budge. "Nothing."

"Here, let me try." Lee stepped forward. He squatted and gripped the bottom of the gate. He grunted as he used his entire force to slid it upwards, but once again it didn't move.

"There ain't nobody here." T-Dog said, the hope among the group vanishing.

"No. It can't be!" Rick denied, becoming more nervous. "If there is nobody inside, then why are them shutters down?!"

"Walkers!" Glenn shouted. Everybody began cocking their guns, as a pair of undead soldiers began rising from the ground near them. Daryl immediately shot an arrow into the skull of one of them, whilst Carley fired at the other one's head.

Clementine ducked behind Lee as more zombies began rising. "Lee!"

"It's okay." Lee reassured her. "Rick, we gotta find a way inside."

"Guys, it's too late!" Doug said in a shaky voice. "We're not supposed to be out after dark, and we're going to get cornered by walkers here."

Lee looked to the ground, pinching his nose bridge. _No._ They couldn't give up. There had to be someone in there! After all they had been through, they couldn't give up.

Lee elevated his head and spotted a tiny security camera installed above the shutters. At first, it was immobile but then he noticed the goggle moving.

"The camera!" Lee hollered, pointing towards the camera, catching the group's attention. "It moved."

"You imagined it." Dale replicated.

"It moved!" Lee insisted in a determined tone.

"Lee says it moved, it's because it moved." Rick backed him up, before he marched up to the shutters and banged on them, making a rattling sound. "Hey! You in there! I know you're in there! Please! We're fucking desperate! Please, we have women and children, hardly any food or gas..:!"

Lori dashed in front of Rick, while the group was already recoiling back to their vehicles. "Rick, we gotta go, this place is dead, it's not safe!"

"Let us in! You're killing us!" Rick yelled louder. He was about to berate more, but was interrupted when Daryl yanked him back by his shirt. "YOU'RE KILLING US!"

"Let's go!" Daryl barked in his ear.

Carley placed a hand on Lee's shoulder, who was disappointed. "Hey. You tried."

Lee slapped his own face. "Jesus…everything we did…for nothing."

"YOU'RE KILLING US!" Rick screamed.

The main gate skidded open. The clacking noise made them freeze on the spot and turn around. The shutters were open, and a white, almost angelic light shone on them. For a moment, everybody just stood there, not believing what they were seeing. Rick was the first one to break the spell.

"C'mon, guys, inside!" Rick commanded, waving his arm.

* * *

Rick unsheathed his Python and readied it as he was the first one to enter the building. The main hall was a modern looking space, with a brick frame in the middle with the logo. The rest of the group entered.

"Daryl, you cover the back." Dale instructed.

Rick looked around in a sense of amazement. "Hello?"

A clicking sound echoed through the hall, and all of the members who were armed lifted their guns towards the source of the noise. A few meters away from them, Edwin Jenner was gawking in a mindless state at the survivors, brandishing an M4 Carbine assault-rifle.

"Anybody infected?" Edwin asked loudly.

"No! We're all good." Lee told him, lowering his gun a little bit.

Edwin took a few steps forward, the gun always low but locked on them. "Why are you here? What do you want?"

"A chance." Rick said, with sweat running down his face.

"That's asking an awful lot these days." Edwin responded.

Rick jostled his head. "I know."

Edwin was silent for a moment, eyeing all of the people present. "You all submit to a blood test." He finally said, slinging his gun on his back. The group followed, holstering their weapons or lowering them. "That's the price of admission."

"We can do that." Rick agreed.

"You guys got stuff to bring in, you bring it now." Edwin declared in a firm tone, jabbing his finger towards the double doors that were open. "Once that door closes, it stays closed."

Daryl, Glenn and Kenny heard the man's call, and exited the building in a hurry and picked up the three duffel bags they'd left at the door. Once they'd got them, they ran back inside whilst a few lonely walkers limped in the panorama.

Edwin walked up to an interactive screen on the wall, and slipped his staff card through the slot. The screen lit in a green color, signifying acceptance. "Vi, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here."

The artificial intelligence obeyed, and the shutters came down once again. Carol watched in a mild dread, due to her secret claustrophobia.

Lee smiled for a split second. They had made it. He walked up to the scientist and lent his hand for a handshake. "Lee Everett."

Edwin gazed at Lee in a blank expression. He shook his hand. "Dr. Edwin Jenner."


	28. Countdown To Hell

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 28 –Countdown To Hell**

When Jenner said that they had to take an elevator to the lower levels, everybody knew it would be torturable. They had to squeeze to fit in, and they barely did. Plus it was quite uncomfortable, as they always felt somebody breathing on their neck or pushing them.

"I have to say. Your group is remarkably big." Edwin observed with a surprised tone.

"That's sort of our running gag now." Lee replied with a brief chuckle, that faded away. "There were more of us though."

Edwin didn't say anything else, lowering his head in comprehension. Daryl leaned against the wall of the lift and noticed with a frown the assault rifle the doctor had on his back.

"Doctors always go packin' heat like that?" Daryl enquired.

Edwin turned around as best as he could and glanced at him. "There were plenty left around. I familiarized myself. But you look harmless enough."

Edwin bent over a little and looked at Carl with a smile. "Except you. I'm gonna have to keep my eye on you."

Rick bore a serious expression and scratched the back of his head. If only Jenner knew what had happened with Carl a few days back. Carl just stared at the ground in a depressive demeanor.

* * *

Edwin led the entire group down a hallway. The passage was symmetrical to a perfect level, having an equal amount of doors and lamps on both sides at the same position. Their footsteps echoed through the facility. Edwin just looked forward and avoided eye-contact with the rest of them.

"Are we underground?" Carol asked.

"Yeah." Edwin said. "Why? You claustrophobic?"

"A little." Carol confessed.

"Try not to think about it." Edwin conveyed the first thing he could think off.

They entered another room. This vast space was round, and curved rows of computers and terminals occupied it. "Vi, bring the lights on the big room."

The lights switched on as if in by magic, illuminating the room. "Welcome to zone 5." Edwin welcomed with little enthusiasm.

Rick gawked around the room with a twisted frown. The room was quite emptier than he had expected it to be. Apart from them, there wasn't a single shred of life visible. "Where is everybody? Y'know, the doctors, the staff."

Edwin stopped in the middle of the room. He returned Rick's gaze, and after a long silence, he said. "I'm it." Rick was petrified and didn't budge a brow as he heard those words. "It's just me here."

"What about the person you were talking to?" Lilly quizzed, folding her arms and keeping a straight posture. "Vi?"

"Vi?" Edwin shouted, looking at the ceiling. "Vi. Say hello to our guests. Say…'Welcome'."

"_Hello guests. Welcome._" The voice resounded through the hidden speakers. Dale looked around in surprise, not used to such fancy technologies.

"I'm all that's left." Edwin disclosed with his eyes locked on the sheriff. Rick lowered his head with a stiff neck, before passing his hand through his rough face.

"I'm sorry." Edwin added. He spun around and continued marching through the room. "Now, what about that blood test?"

* * *

"Look, is this really necessary?" Lee asked Jenner. Clementine was beside him, sitting in the chair in front of the table that hauled samples of everyone's blood. The others had all passed the test and now sat in the stairs of the paltry room. "She doesn't like needles."

Clementine had sweaty palms and her facial expressions changed and twitched. Edwin prepared the syringe. "I've already broken every rule in the book by letting you in here. I just wanna be sure. Look, Clementine, it's not gonna hurt a lot. Promise."

Clementine looked at Lee with puppy eyes. "Do I have to?"

Lee sighed, not knowing what else to do. "Yes. We do if we want to stay. But you're a tough cookie, Clem. It's just a little sting."

Clementine finally drew a breath, closed her eyes and turned her head away. "Okay."

Edwin punctured her arm with the needle in a precise and professional manner. "Ow!" Clementine cried.

Lee gulped as he saw the syringe's transparent contained being filled with blood. After a finger-worth of blood was extracted, Edwin took away the syringe and wiped the small stain of blood sprinkling on her arm, before applying a Band-Aid. "See? All done."

"It wasn't so bad, was it?" Lee inquired with a smirk.

Clementine twisted her mouth and covered her arm with her hand. "It didn't hurt too much, actually."

"That's my girl." Lee said, followed by a giggle.

Clem hopped out of the chair and he directed her towards the rest of the group. She sat on the stairs beside Carley. Lee sat in the chair next, and the doctor did the same drill.

Lee rolled up his sleeve. Edwin sterilized and cleaned the needle, before making another incision near the articulation between the arm and the forearm and sucking out a few drops of blood.

"Okay, I'm all done here." Edwin stated as he finished his work. Lee pulled his sleeve back down whilst Edwin stored all of the samples inside a metal case.

Lee was about to stand up, when his vision became blurry. He blinked twice to cleanse his vision, but the blurs insisted. He looked down and was dazzled to see double Jenners. His body felt lighter, softer and his stomach area began aching. It was like he was both tipsy and sluggish. He placed a wobbling hand on the table and forced himself up, but his arm gave in and he fell back on the chair that rattled, causing most of the group to jump in a startle.

"Are you okay, Lee?" Edwin asked with a confused expression.

"It's just…I haven't eaten in days." Lee informed. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples to calm himself. "None of us have."

Edwin looked at the ground in a thoughtful manner. "Lee, Daryl, Rick, come with me. I have something to show you. The rest, go to the big room and we'll meet you there soon."

The doctor took off his coat and folded it on the table, before the three called men exchanged looks.

"What for?" Daryl asked.

"You guys said you're hungry. I still have a stock of food in the back." Edwin claimed.

* * *

Lee, Daryl and Rick marched behind Jenner, as he led them into another hallway. They didn't have a reason to distrust him, but they still kept wary. In the past, they never had any chance with strangers. The St. Johns, the bandits…and they couldn't lose everything now. They couldn't lose someone else.

They stopped dead in their tracks once they saw that the corridor around the corner was immersed in darkness.

"Why are the lights out here?" Rick asked.

"I shut the power on most areas to conserve power." Edwin explained while fishing a flashlight out of his pocket. He switched the device on and casted the light towards the obscure passage. They continued through the now lit hall, towards a door at the end.

Edwin revolved the knob of the door and let it swing on its hinges. Once he directed the flashlight inside the room, Lee saw mountains of crates and boxes stacked on one another, filling the room, all of them labeled and organized.

They entered the room, one by one. "This is the storage."

"Is there food in here?" Rick asked. He clutched his belly once his guts growled loudly. "Sorry."

"It's okay. And yes, there are a few emergency rations in here. They were placed here for worst case scenarios. And it's enough for all of us." Edwin elaborated.

Daryl spotted a dolly on the corner of the room. He placed himself behind it and arched it with his knee to make it roll on its wheels. "Alright, let's get loadin'."

Daryl already had a box in his hands, but Edwin stopped him. "Stop! Not all of the boxes in here have food. Those have medicine."

Daryl looked back at the crate and put it back where it belonged. Edwin beamed the light towards a pile of three boxes in front of him. "These are the ones with the food and drinks."

Rick, Lee and Edwin all picked a box each one, and stacked them on the dolly. Daryl gripped the dolly's handles and then conducted it out of the room, whilst Edwin closed the door and illuminated the dark path ahead of them.

* * *

"Allen, look, stay with the group." Jacqui told Allen, who was surrounded by Ben and Billy. They were chatting in a reserved space, away from the group who waited and paced back and forth.

"I…I can't…y…I can't…" Allen stuttered with watery eyes.

"Allen, just know that I've been where you are." Jacqui asserted, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I thought isolating myself was the best thing to do. I truly did. But…"

"Jacqui, I just…can't…focus right now." Allen insisted. "I…have to be alone."

"I know you're suffering. I don't want to pull you out of your grieving." Jacqui said. "Grief is a part of life. How you get past it is the most important aspect. Socializing with the group, sticking close…it'll distract you, help you heal…eat with the group, Allen…please."

Allen looked at Jacqui for a few seconds, but eventually faced away. "Kids, c'mon."

"They need to eat too." Jacqui remarked.

"I'll get something for them." Allen maintained, departing into an adjacent room.

"Do you even know where the rooms are?" Jacqui enquired, which caused Allen to halt. "At least wait for Jenner to get here. He'll show you the way."

* * *

Daryl and the others drove the dolly back to the big room. Once the group laid eyes on the promised food, they worked with velocity, fueled by the hunger. They dragged a table to the big room and looted the break room, which contained plates, forks and knives and chairs that were now scattered around the table. Jacqui told Edwin that Allen didn't wish to participate in the communal dinner, so he showed him the way to the quarters and then returned.

The ambience was jovial for once. Most of them had one too many glasses of wine, but they were joyous, laughing. It was a fantastic pause from all the shit going on outside. It was goddamned awesome.

Dale was standing up, giving Lori a refill on her glass. "Y'know, in Italy, kids have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France."

"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then." Lori replicated in a half-serious, half-frisky tone, despite causing a row of chuckles across the table.

"What's it gonna hurt? C'mon." Rick insisted, with a smile that went from ear to ear. "C'mon."

"Yeah, Lori! Let the tyke have a drink!" Larry spat across the table. Larry's arms moved in the air in slow motion and his words were slurred. Lee laughed hysterically and buried his head in the table due to Larry's inebriated figure. "Y'know, back in my day, we gave kids wine for breakfast!"

Lilly gave herself a face-palm and blushed in embarrassment. Lee detected something weird about her tonight. She was very uptight and refused to relax or drink wine. She didn't participate in the group's conversation and she kept to herself.

Lori smirked. Her arms flew in the air as she gave in in defeat. T-dog grinned and raised his glass, before having another sip. Dale poured a few drops onto Carl's glass. Rick felt a tingling sensation of joy to see that his son was smiling for once.

"There you are, young lad." Dale said, giving the cup to Carl. "What about Kenny Jr. and Clementine?"

Katjaa and Kenny both grinned. "My boy isn't gonna turn into a drunkard like his father." Kenny said.

Lee wouldn't consent if he was clear-headed, but the alcohol running through his veins was about to make him say yes. What would the worst thing that could happen? He opened his mouth, but stopped once his reasonable side came to him. He remembered, like in a thunderbolt, that Clementine wasn't his daughter. He recalled that he was trying to find her parents. And that giving Clem wine probably wasn't the best choice.

"I don't think Clem's gonna want alcohol." Lee said, motioning his hand in a denying gesture.

"Yeah. I don't want any, thanks." Clementine said with a wise manner.

Seeing that the other kids weren't drinking, Carl inspected the liquid with close detail. An absolute silence had tumbled upon everyone, awaiting to see his reaction. Carl hesitated for a bit, seeing all of those sets of eyes laid on him, before he brought the cup to his lips and allowed just a bead to fall onto his mouth, just to taste it. He then took a larger sip, and he posited the glass on the table with a thud, swallowing the wine.

"It's good." Carl finally announced, nodding in approval. "Could've been sweeter, though."

The group broke into laughter. If they weren't inside the thick walls of the scientific building, all of the walkers in Atlanta would've heard them.

"This is not the boy I raised!" Lori joked followed by a cackle, slapping her own face with both hands.

"Can I drink the rest?" Carl inquired.

They laughed a bit more, but Rick picked his glass up and poured the remnants of his drink onto his glass. "That's enough for you young boy." Rick quipped. "Maybe when you're twenty-one, then we'll talk."

Glenn was about to have his very first wine sip, but Daryl stopped him. "Not you, Glenn!"

"Why?" Glenn quizzed, looking up at Daryl.

"Keep drinking, little man!" Daryl encouraged with a taunting expression and a snicker, as he filled his cup to the border. "I wanna see how red your face can get!"

Doug was eating his dinner with no interruptions, his glass empty. "What about you, dough-boy? Why you ain't drinkin'?" Daryl questioned.

"I don't consume alcohol." Doug said with some insecurity.

"Too strong for you?" Daryl snorted.

"No, just sour." Doug explained.

Rick dodged his gaze away and spotted Edwin sitting at the end of the table. He was cold sober, chewing on a nail as he stared into nothingness and meditated with the concentration of a monk.

Rick grabbed his fork and banged it against his glass thrice, silencing the crowd with the tinkling sound. He stood up before clearing his throat. "It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly."

"He is more than our host." T-Dog stated, reclining in his chair with drowsy eyes.

"Hear hear!" Dale cheered, elevating his glass. Everybody else repeated his words except for Lilly, raising their glasses.

"Here's to you, doc. Booyah!" Daryl shouted, waving in the air a bottle of booze.

"Booyah!" The mob repeated after Daryl.

"Thank you." Rick thanked, but in a deliberate tone.

"You're welcome." Edwin said in a drowned voice, almost a mutter, before sipping from his glass.

"So when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc?" Lilly asked, loud so that he would hear. The deadpan question extinguished the good humor and left nothing but an oppressing silence. "All the other doctors, the ones who were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?"

"We're celebrating, Lilly." Kenny reprimanded with a hiss between teeth. "Not the time."

"We didn't come here to celebrate, Kenny." Lilly riposted calmly. "We came here for answers. So, what is it?"

"Well…" Edwin began. "In the beginning, when things got bad, a lot of people just…left. Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted. Many couldn't face walking out the door. They…opted out. There was a rash of suicides. That…was a bad time."

"You didn't leave. Why?" Lilly interrogated.

"I just kept working." Edwin continued. "Hoping to do some good."

"Dude, you are such a buzzkill, Lilly." Glenn said, sitting down.

* * *

Since a lot of them were drunk or not in the best of conditions, they had left their dishes in the table, and Edwin was giving them the tour of the residential quarters.

"Most of the facility is powered down, including housing, so you'll have to make do here." Edwin elucidated. "The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. There's a rec room down the hall down you kids might enjoy. Just don't plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that draws power. Same applies, if you shower, go easy on the hot water."

Glenn looked back at the group with a simper. "Hot water?"

T-Dog chuckled. "That's what the man said!"

* * *

Lee sat in the couch of the rec room. His clothes had been replaced by a robe that felt light he laid in a bed of feathers. In the corner, Carl, Sophia, Clementine, Billy and Ben played a game of monopoly. Lee was glad to see them distracted, having fun.

Lee sprawled on the couch. That shower had left him in a sleepy, meditative state and he could close his eyes and never wake up ever again. So many things running through his mind…

Carley came along and sat next to Lee. She too was wrapped in a robe, and she sighed in relief as she stretched out. "That bath really did the trick."

Lee chuckled, recalling a chat the two had a few days back. "I thought you dreamed of a bathtub on top of a high-luxury apartment with a heated floor."

"Hey, this isn't a five-star hotel, but it's the best you can get." She said. Her voice was deep and suave. "You okay, Lee? You seem a bit off this world."

"I'm thinking about a lot of things." Lee admitted.

Carley bowed a little to be at the same angle was Lee, who leaned on his knees. "What about?"

"About what Edwin said." Lee acknowledged.

"It wasn't the most hopeful of speeches, I'll tell you that." Carley said.

"It's just…I just can't believe it. We came all this way, saw so much shit…I really expected this time for everything to go alright." Lee confessed with a hint of profound sadness.

"Not everything went bad." Carley declared. "Have you seen this place? We're safe in here."

"We're safe, but we're not gonna be able to stay here forever." Lee disclosed, now facing Carley in the eyes. "Edwin showed me the storage. All of the food he has, we ate almost everything today. And the electricity? It probably won't last long either with all of us."

Carley lowered her head. "We'll find someplace safe if the time comes for us to bolt. We're gonna be okay. I assure you."

Carley set her hand on Lee's back. The tender touch of her hand warmed his heart like water boiling in a fire. He exhaled a breath, and felt all of his worries and dread being flushed out of his system.

"Yeah. Thanks Carley." Lee mumbled.

* * *

Rick chugged another mouthful from his liquor bottle as he stumbled into the big room. His eyes were half-closed and he struggled to keep them open. Despite having a poor depth perception at that point, he could see Edwin sitting alone in front of a computer, tapping keys rapidly.

"How's the blood?" Rick queried, approaching the man.

Edwin gave the keyboard a final tap, before swiveling around in his chair and facing Rick. "No surprises."

Rick sniffled and staggered around Edwin. "I came to thank you."

"You did." Edwin flatly said.

Rick seemed to trip over his own feet and he collided against a row of terminals, butting his back against them and sliding down until he was in a sitting position.

"You all…you alright?" Edwin asked.

"You don't know what it's like." Rick stated in a firm tone. His icy, blue eyes were fixed on Edwin. "You don't know what it's like out there. You may think you do, but you don't. We'd have died out there. It was only a matter of time. There's just too many of those damned things. The…the shit that goes on out there…my…my boy…my wife…I never expected to…I never told 'em what I really thought. I never even hinted, just…just kept it in. Kept it in and kept us movin', you know. Just kept it in…kept us…"

"It'll all be okay." Edwin consoled, yet his voice was blunt. "It'll be okay."

Rick just stared at him. He was shivering and shaking. His eyes were glassy like snow globes. The grasp on the bottle tight. He wondered if Edwin meant what he said or if they were all just doomed.

Edwin watched as Rick desastrously got up and hobbled his way towards the bedrooms. Edwin sighed and looked at the faraway wall. An electric clock was ticking, and showed that there were only twelve more hours for it to reach zero. The fact that time was fading away, and that he couldn't save mankind due to the loss of TS-19, instilled him with a sense of desolation that rewarded him with a restless night.


	29. EPISODE 2 FINALE - Euthanasia Within

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 29 – Euthanasia Within**

_Lee looked himself in the bedroom mirror. He saw his normal self. A tall, slender man with a dark complexion, with black, short cropped hair, buttoning his shirt to go teach about Napoleon Bonaparte and civil wars to his students. It was just another usual day._

_Lee's apartment had never been very luxurious. It had a quaint and simplistic look to it, however the straws of dusk penetrating the window gave the chamber a natural beauty that painted his skin and the furniture in orange. _

_Lee finished with his shirt and spun around, marching towards the bedside table. His suitcase was ajar beside it. He crouched and rummaged inside it, verifying that his papers were in order. The corrected tests from last week, the lecture planning, the call forms…_

_As he closed his suitcase, he realized something as he was struck by a lightning bolt. This world wasn't real. The History teacher was long gone. The decorated room and the beginning of another routinely day was just a delusion in the depths of his subconscious. No, Lee Everett meant something else now. He was nothing now, just one of the few people who were lucky to survive the walkers._

_He got up and looked around at the walls, the portraits dangling from the walls with a frown and with peeled eyes. It couldn't be real. It couldn't. He lived in a different universe now, one that he was used to. At least he thought he was. Lee raised his hand and passed it along the wall. He pushed it against it and wasn't surprised to see that it was solid. _

_He stood there, not quite knowing what to do. It felt like he was in an unknown world, like a person who goes to live in a foreign country. He was lucid, controlling his body, but the world around him, despite being consistent, seemed out of place and surreal._

_ "__Deborah?" Lee called out. _

_ "__Over here!" A voice spoke from the kitchen._

_Lee was dumbstruck and froze. He ambled around the bed and exited through the door into the kitchen, that was just as minimalistic as the bed. Lee halted in the doorposts. His wife was standing in the kitchen, interacting with the coffee maker. She was a woman with short auburn hair and a tanned skin, and she was already dressed up to go to work like Lee._

_Deborah regarded him with a smirk. "Hi, sweetie. I made you coffee."_

_Lee was silent for a few seconds. Her voice was so…sweet and peaceful. Their relationship had been so troubled in the month preceding the apocalypse, that it had become rare to hear her speaking calmly. Discussions and argue were a guarantee and Lee had back pain from the innumerous times sleeping on the couch._

_A genuine smile drew on Lee's face. The whole thing seemed perfect. The shy sun rising and shining upon them an angelic light, a bird twittering in a tree outside, a morning with no hurries or stress. Lee walked up to her, almost forgetting that this scenario wasn't real._

_ "__Thank…you." Lee said, grabbing a cup of coffee she gave him. The hot liquid warmed his hand and the toasted smell pierced his nose. He could've sworn he'd seen the last of coffee. He even forgot the sensation of it._

_His immersion in his thoughts left him unaware that he wasn't grabbing the cup from the handle, and the coffee burnt his hand. He let out a squawk and his fingers snapped off in an instinct and the cup fell, shattering and spilling the contents all over the floor and Lee's trousers._

_ "__Jesus!" Lee grumbled, shaking his hand to dissipate the heat._

_ "__What happened?" Deborah gasped and brought a hand to her mouth._

_ "__I…I…" Lee stammered. He was in a loss for words, looking in all directions and frozen in place. Where were the damned paper towels?! "No…! No…! This…this ain't…this…"_

_ "__What's wrong, sweetie? You seem a little shaky this morning?" Deborah inquired, in a less concerned expression and walking up to Lee, wrapping her arms around his neck._

_Lee closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm just a bit…nervous."_

_Deborah was opening her mouth to say something, but Lee grasped her back and pulled her closer for a hug, burying his face in her shoulder. "Hey…it's okay…"_

_Lee tightened his grip on his wife. "I don't wanna...I don't wanna…"_

_ "__Baby, what's wrong?" Deborah asked in a preoccupied tone._

_ "__I don't wanna go…I don't wanna go…" Lee stuttered between hiccups. "I…I can't…"_

_ "__Lee…you gotta go to work." Deborah said. "You know that."_

_Lee looked up and blinked his watery eyes. He remembered that this fantasy was just a dream. Plus, in the real world, there were people who needed him. One especially. He detached himself from Deborah slowly. "You're right…this isn't real…and I can't stay here…Clementine needs me…"_

_Deborah wriggled an eyebrow. "What're you talking about?"_

_ "__I just need to splash some water on my face." Lee lied. _

_Lee turned around and headed towards the bathroom door. He opened it, only to notice that it wasn't his bathroom. The bathtub was over-flooding with blood that touched the tip of Lee's shoes, and the floor was littered with dirty medical equipment._

_Worst of all, a legless Jim was crawling on the ground. _

_ "__Please…!" Jim pleaded, stretching out his hand. "H…hel…help…"_

_Lee's teeth battered and he took a step back. He lowered his head and saw that his hands were covered in blood. Lee scrubbed his hands one against the other with vigor, essaying to wipe it off. He rubbed them faster, but it persisted, it just wouldn't come off. _It wasn't my fault_, he thought. _It wasn't my fault!

* * *

Lee woke up with a startle, jumping onto a sitting position. He let out a short yell until he realized it was all a dream. He shot a glance in all directions, feeling somewhat ashamed and hoping he hadn't woken anyone up. His naked torso was drenched in sweat, making him humid. The room was dark and the lights were out. The lack of windows didn't allow him to see if it was morning or night. The light emanating from the door crack however, let him deduce that there was someone up.

Lee laid back on the mess of blankets scattered on the floor that could be called a cot. Carley, beside him, moved in her sheets and put her hand on his chest. "What's wrong?" She asked, her voice muffled by her pillow.

Lee calmed his breathing and stared at the black ceiling. "Bad dream." He squeezed his temples and rubbed them. "We should be getting up."

**. . .**

Rick strolled into the big room, his head hurting from last night's wine. His entire body seemed to be backfiring on him and he couldn't move a muscle without losing strength. He couldn't even walk a straight line.

Rick sat by the table. He saw that Dale, Glenn, Kenny, Katjaa, Duck, Lilly, Jacqui, Daryl, Sophia, Andrea, Carol and Doug were there, along with his family. Lori and Carl were eating scrambled eggs. Rick sighed and tried to recover from the rough wake-up.

"Mom said you're hung-over." Carl told him.

"Well then, mom is right." Rick said in a hoarse voice that forced him to clear his voice.

"Mom has that annoying habit." Lori admitted in a mumble with a grin.

Rick inspected the table, and stamped a frown on his face when he saw Allen was absent. Jacqui was organizing Billy and Ben, but their father still wasn't there. "Hey, where's Allen?"

"Holed up in his room." Jacqui said in a worried tone. "In all honesty, that man worries me."

"And what about Larry?" Rick asked.

"He's sleeping." Lilly said. "I don't think he'll be up for a while now."

"Eggs. Powdered!" T-Dog announced to the others, bearing in his hand a frying-pan filled with his cooking genius. His loud voice intensified Rick's headache. "But I do 'em good. I bet you can't tell."

Glenn moaned like a zombie. His head was dangling low and he was immobile. Jacqui gave him a pat on the back to comfort him.

"Protein helps the hangover!" T-Dog said, with a smile by seeing how affected Glenn was. He used a spatula to fill Glenn's plate, before he ambled around the table and served more food on different plates.

"Don't…ever, ever, ever let me drink again…" Glenn groaned.

"And that is why I don't drink alcohol." Doug said with a smug smirk.

Rick heard footsteps and turned around on his sore chest. He saw Lee, Clementine and Carley walking down towards the canteen per se, and Lee reflected Rick's image. "Hey."

"'Morning." Lee greeted.

"Feel as bad as I do?" Rick asked.

"Worse." Lee said.

Lee headed towards the sink and simply poured a glass of cold water for him. He wasn't hungry at all. "What do you want to eat, sweet pea?"

"I guess just some eggs." Clementine answered.

"Can you fix her up some eggs, T-Dog?" Lee asked the morning chef.

"Right away." T-Dog obeyed, grabbing a plate and putting a piece of food on it.

Carley just got a steamy coffee for her, before the family of three sat beside the Grimes family. Lee sipped from his water with frequency, trying to forget those horrid images from his dreams.

Carley sniffed her coffee with pleasure. "I'm not sure I would've held one more day without one of these."

Edwin Jenner entered the room, this time wearing a shirt and with a sober air. He strolled towards the counter and grabbed himself a cup of coffee.

Dale sprang around in his chair. "Doctor, I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing…"

"But you will anyway." Edwin completed his sentence.

"We didn't come here for the eggs." Lilly remarked.

Edwin eyed Lilly, before spinning around on his heels and marching up towards the rows of terminals. "Come with me. I'm gonna show you something."

The people sitting at the table exchanged confused looks, but they got up nonetheless and followed Edwin.

* * *

Edwin tapped on the keyboard of a computer whilst the crowd scattered around the room. They eagerly awaited what they were about to be shown. "Vi, playback the recording of TS-19."

"What're we gonna see?" Clementine enquired, looking up at Lee.

"I dunno. We'll find out in a minute." Lee muttered back to her.

Lee frowned as he saw a loading bar on the gigantic projection on the wall in front of them. In a split second, four diminished images were exhibited on the lower left of the video, all of them showing views of different angles of a human brain. The bigger image showed a frontal view of a person's cranium, with the brain simulated to the tiniest of details.

"Few people ever got the chance to see this." Edwin stated in a dead serious tone. "Very few."

"Is that a brain?" Carl asked.

"An extraordinary one." Edwin told him with a simper, before switching to a darker behavior. "Not that it matters in the end. Take us in for E.I.V."

"_Enhanced Internal View._" Vi clarified.

The image zoomed in on the human head. The brain's curves, loops and contours were visible. Glenn stiffened his eyebrows, seeing that all over the brain there were fragments of blue light sparkling. The image penetrated the brain, until it stopped in a detailed picture of a complex structure of neurons. Rivers of light pulsed through one another like a complicated tram system. It was a magical and unique sight, to see that their brain was such a perplexing organ.

"What're those lights?" Kenny inquired.

"A person's life." Edwin alleged. He paced around the room and jabbed his finger towards the projection like he was giving a lecture. "Experiences, memories. It's everything. In all that organic wiring, those ripples of light, it's you. It's the thing that makes you unique. And human."

"You don't make sense, ever?" Daryl questioned.

"Those are synapses, electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages." Edwin elucidated. "They determine everything a person says, does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death."

"Death?" Rick repeated, giving a few steps towards Jenner. "That's what this is? A vigil?"

"Yes." Edwin said. "Or rather the playback of the vigil."

Dale and Doug seemed astonished by what they were seeing, like they were staring right at heaven's light. Other such as Kenny and Daryl only understood the scientist's words as nonsense or mumbo-jumbo.

"This person died?" Andrea catechized with a drooped mouth. "Who?"

"Test Subject Nineteen." Edwin declared, his voice dying down with each sentence. "Someone who was bitten…and infected…and volunteered to have us record the process."

"Okay, but are there any other ways to get infected besides getting bit?" Lilly inquired, crossing her arms.

"I wouldn't be able to give you a good answer." Edwin said. "But from what I've seen, it isn't airborne and direct fluid contact should be the only way of contagion." Edwin cleared his throat before proceeding. "Vi, scan to second event."

"_Scanning to first event._" Vi said.

The imagery swapped onto something different. The brain and confusing neuron connections were there, but in the core of the brain, the neurons were black like ink and it was killing the blue light, spreading all over the brain in shapes that resembled corals. The holographic torso began bouncing up in down. The subject was hyperventilating.

"Fascinating…" Doug whispered to himself, scratching his chin.

"What is that?" Carley asked in pure awe.

"It invades the brain liked meningitis." Edwin affirmed, looking at Carley. The black disease was spreading through the brain like the pest and the spinal cord along with the brain were now totally dark, and whoever was the guinea-pig became immobilized. "The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown and then the major organs."

Edwin's eyes were glassy and reflected the light. He inclined his neck and his voice came out low. "Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be…gone."

"Is that what happened to Mark?" Sophia asked Carol.

"Yes, sweetie. It is." Carol said in a blunt tone.

Jacqui felt her eyes watering and brought her hand to her face. Was that what happened to Mark? In that moment, she felt terrible about just leaving Mark out in the forest to turn. It was awful to think that hours before he passed away, that illness was tainting him from the inside in such a painful way. Her heart was crushed thinking about the suffering. It was even worst to think that he was now roaming the desolated streets of Atlanta in such an undignified and dishonored state.

She didn't want the same to happen to her.

Andrea sat in a chair in a brusque movement. "She lost someone few days ago." Lori revealed. "Her sister."

"I know how it must be devastating." Edwin soothed her, arching over to her face-height. "I lost somebody too."

Edwin was silent for a few seconds, before uncoiling and returning to his normal position. "Scan to the second event."

"_Scanning to second event._" Vi said.

"The reanimation times vary wildly." Edwin apprised. "We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we've heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient it was two hours, one minute, seven seconds."

All of the sudden, in the center of the coal-like brain, a red glint ignited.

"It restarts the brain?" Lee observed.

"No, just the brain stem." Edwin corrected. "Basically, it gets them up and moving."

"But they're not alive?" Rick asked, approaching Edwin. His intrigue in the matter increased with each stage of the simulation.

"You tell me." Edwin instructed, beaming his finger towards the projection.

Rick bit his lower lip. "It's nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark."

"Dark, lifeless, dead." Edwin added like a poet. "The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part, that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell driven by a mindless instinct."

As Lee stared at that projection, a projectile pierced the person's head, piercing the brain and the cranium.

"God. What was that?" Carol inquired with her eyelids stretched out.

Edwin looked down and placed his palms on his hips. "Vi, power down the main screen and the workstations."

"_Powering down main screen and workstations._" Vi said.

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" Katjaa guessed straight-forward.

"It could be microbial. Viral, parasitic, fungal." Edwin enumerated. It was a fancy manner of saying that it could anything.

"Or the wrath of God?" Jacqui suggested in a shaky voice.

"There is that." Edwin said.

"There are others, right? Other facilities?" Lee asked.

"There may be some." Edwin said with little conviction. "People like me."

"But you don't know?! How can you not know?!" Rick demanded.

"Everything went down…communications, directives, all of it." Edwin elaborated. "I've been in the dark for almost a month. There is nothing else."

Daryl rubbed his eyes and sauntered around the room. "Man, I'm gonna get shit-faced drunk again."

"Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you, and I hate to ask one more question, but…" Dale intervened with his wise demarche, noticing a descending clock on the wall. "That clock…it's counting down. What happens at zero?"

Everyone's gaze fell upon the clock, that had one more exact hour to reach zero. Lee didn't know what that thing would do, but in the movies, a counting clock only meant one thing. He gulped, praying that he would be wrong.

"The basement generators run out of power." Edwin said.

"Then what happens?" Rick asked.

Edwin didn't respond. He lowered his head to avoid eye contact and marched out of the room, brushing past them. A sense of inquietude settled upon them. The silence of the scientist had sufficed as an answer. But they needed to be sure.

"Vi, what happens when the power runs out?" Rick talked to the ceiling.

"_When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur._" Vi said.

Lee's jaw dropped and he exchanged a look with Carley. Clementine just looked around her with a confused expression. "Lee? What does that mean?"

Lee pondered for a few seconds, if he should tell her the truth or keep it from her a little bit longer. "Nothing, sweet pea."

* * *

Lee led T-Dog, Glenn, Rick and Doug down a dark hallway, that lit up automatically as they passed through. Lee glimpsed towards the wall and saw a plaque that indicated the generator room to be just up ahead.

Lee found himself in front of a stairway, and he paced at a frenetic speed down them, along with the others. "Decontamination? What does that mean?" T-Dog enquired.

"I don't like the way Jenner clammed up. How he just wandered off like that." Rick stated with an austere expression.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" T-Dog said. "Is he nuts, medicated, or what?"

"Guys, let's not make hasty assumptions." Doug intervened. "It might not be anything serious."

Lee turned around a corner and into another room. This one was too immersed in obscurity, but the lights didn't go on like they did in the previous corridor. Doug slid his hand down the wall and pressed the switch, illuminating the room.

Lee curved his brows and was static, as he saw a multitude of black barrels with a paper labeling them as flammable, that surrounded the machinery built into the room. The whole place was a maze of numbers, letters and labels drawn on the walls. Parallelepipeds of devices with buttons and levers on them complicated their mission.

"You go that way." Rick beamed his finger to the right side. "I'll take Doug."

Rick and Doug teamed up, before they walked off in the opposite direction. Lee waved towards Glenn and T-Dog, and they ambled into their right side, inspecting each machine with their eyes. Lee led his team through another passageway that was somewhat tight, forcing them to walk in a line, one per one. The walls comported a riddle of pipes that stretched all the way.

Lee stopped once he spotted a gargantuan machine, painted in a dark-olive color. He strode toward it and spotted a thick tube connecting to a red barrel. White letters on the apparatus said 'Emergency Fuel Reserve'. Lee flicked his eyes downwards and saw a fuel indicator, like the ones that was seen in cars. The red bar was reaching the empty sign.

Just as he made this realization, the lights blinked on and off, before they completely went out. They were emerged in the dark. "What the hell?!" Glenn sputtered.

"_Emergency lighting on._" Vi said, right before the lights came back, but they weren't as bright.

"Hey! You guys kill the lights?" Rick demanded, as he and Doug came dashing into the scene.

"No, it just went off!" Lee said, a feeling of alert in his voice. "You guys find anything?"

"Bunch of dead generators and more fuel drums I can count." Doug informed.

"Fuck. I don't like this. Not one bit." Lee mumbled. His forehead shone with sweat and his eyes shot in all directions.

* * *

Edwin sat in the chair of the director's office. The room was made out of glass walls and it was built on a higher level, so Edwin could get a decent view of the big room.

Edwin held in his tired hands a picture. In it, he could see himself, his arm wrapped around a woman with chocolate, long hair. The two were both wearing lab coats in the photo, and they were standing inside the scientific building.

Edwin had taken care of himself for the remaining time of his life. His hair was combed, rather than the bushy, curly mess from before. His face mutilated by skin deformations was clean-shaved. He wore a tie and another shirt.

Edwin sniffled. His brows became tenser to avoid the tears and the flat fat on his Adam's apple quavered. "I did the best I could…in the time I had…I hope you'd be proud of that…"

His head moved up and down in a subtle and imperceptible motion, his lips twitching. He posited the picture back where it belonged. Edwin got up and walked towards the window panels. He felt like a ghost in that room. He still had carved into his memory the way he saw his wife completing forms in her desk every time he entered her office. Like small segments of distant memories coming back to him, only now to be reduced into a forever state of emptiness and nothingness.

"We always think there's gonna be more time…" Edwin murmured to himself. The lights in the big room decreased in intensity to punctuate his phrase. "…then it runs out…"

* * *

Edwin hurried his pace as he walked down the hall of the houses. The people living in the rooms began dangling out of theirs doorways, as they noticed the power failure. Edwin kept his gaze concentrated on the big room up ahead and ignored anyone who stepped in his way.

"What is goin' on?" Daryl asked, an almost empty bottle of liquor in his hand. Edwin tore the bottle of his hand and took a large sip to drown his sorrows.

"Why is the power being turned off?" Carley asked with her arms folded. Clementine was hiding behind her legs.

"Energy use is being prioritized." Edwin explained, slowing down and returning the bottle to Daryl.

"Air isn't a priority? And lights?" Dale asked.

"It's not up to me." Edwin said. He was now entering the big room, with the crowd following behind him. Even Allen along with his boys had come to see what the commotion was about. "Zone 5 is shutting down itself."

"Hey! Hey! What the hell does that mean?!" Daryl demanded. He jogged towards Edwin and gave him a tug on the shoulder, but the scientist continued walking. "Hey! I'm talkin' to you! What do you mean it's shutting itself down? How can a building do anything?"

"You'd be surprised." Edwin said.

"Hey, motherfucker! Answer him!" Larry barked.

Lee and Rick appeared, running into them as they were in the big room. Lori shouted Rick's name and sprinted towards him along with Carl, before the three gave each other a short hug. Lee did the same with Carley and Clementine.

Rick gently pulled his family away from him and raced towards Jenner, walking along with him. "Jenner, what's going on?"

"The system is dropping all of the nonessential uses of power." Edwin explained. "It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark." Edwin pointed his index towards the clock, that was reaching thirty minutes. "Right on schedule."

Edwin took a break from speaking, grabbing onto the rail of the three steps of stairs that led to the rows and circles of terminals. He faced the group. "It was the French."

"What?" Lilly said.

"They were the last ones to hold out far as I know." Edwin expounded. "While our people were bolting out the doors, and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs 'till the end. They thought they were close to a solution."

Edwin marched up the steps, before Jacqui opened her mouth to speak. "What happened?"

"The same thing that's happening here." Edwin said. "No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel…I mean, how stupid is that?!"

Kenny made hefty steps towards Jenner, but Rick held him by his arm. "No, look, Kenny, stop! I don't even care about him, just…Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff, we're getting outta here."

They sprang around in they heels to obey Rick, but were paralyzed when an alarm blared through the room's speakers. Red lights began flashing. "What is that?" Lori asked.

The screen lit by itself, and a counter was visible in it, counting from thirty down to zero. "_30 minutes to decontamination._"

"Doc, what the hell is going on here?!" Larry demanded, clenching his fists.

Edwin didn't reply. He walked up to a number pad embedded into the computer and slipped his laboratory card. The light was green, and he inserted a combination of numbers, that made the exit door shut. Rick and Glenn ran up to it, in a futile attempt to stop it. But the solid door was now closed, with no way of opening it. Glenn clawed his hair like he was about to rip it off.

"Did you just lock us in?!" Glenn said. "He just locked us in!"

Edwin sat by the computer and began recording. "We've hit the 30 minute window. I am recording."

"You son of a bitch!" Larry shouted as he made his way towards Edwin.

"No! Stop him!" Rick commanded.

Glenn and T-Dog ran as fast as they could towards Larry. They grasped his arms, but Larry was too bulky and just wavered them off like they were flies. Lilly saw that she was the only one that could calm him down so she sprinted and leaped in front of him, to block his passage.

"Dad, no!" Lilly screeched. Larry's nostrils were flaring like a bull. "If you beat him, he won't be able to open the door. Think about your heart, dad."

Larry calmed his breathing, his eyes popping out of his orbits. He spun around with a heavy breathing, as he marched away from them. Lee had to dodge from his way, otherwise Larry would've knocked him down like a bowling pin. Lee watched as he disappeared back into the household rooms. Lilly sighed and rubbed her temples, before chasing after him.

Edwin adjusted his coat and cleaned his throat. Lee advanced towards the scientist, his brows pressing against his eyelids. "Jenner, open that door, now!" Lee commanded, his voice raising.

"There's no point." Edwin calmly said. "Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed."

"Well then, open the damned things!" Lee ordered, banging his hand against the table.

"That's not something I control." Edwin stated, shaking his head. "The computers do. I told you once that front door closed, it wouldn't open again. You heard me say that."

"I didn't know you meant THIS." Lee confessed, illustrating by pointing his hand towards the countdown. "Listen to me, Jenner. That little girl is in my care. And I'm not gonna let her die in here!"

"I can't do anything." Edwin insisted. "Look, it's better this way."

Lee straightened his posture, squeezing his nose with his fingers. "What is?! What happens in twenty-eight minutes?!" He reinforced his argument by giving a small push on Edwin's chair. "What happens in twenty-eight minutes…?!"

"Do you know what this place is?!" Edwin yelled at the top of his lungs, jumping onto his feet in a sudden move. His voice was molded by bottled-up anger and he stared right into Lee's eyes. "We protected the public from very, nasty, stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! Ever!"

Edwin sat back in his chair and recomposed himself, passing his hand through his mouth. "In the event of a catastrophic power failure, in a terrorist attack, for example. H.I.T.S. are deployed to prevent any organism from getting out."

"H.I.T.S.?" Rick repeated, giving a step toward Jenner.

"Vi, define." Edwin voiced.

"_H.I.T.S._" Vi said. "_High-impulse thermo-baric fuel-air explosives coexists of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive, except nuclear."_

Carol broke into tears as so did her daughter. Kenny tried to calm Katjaa and Duck down as best as he could. Carol hugged Sophia and brought her closer to her, sobbing into her shoulder. Rick trekked towards his family in a shellshock state and then clutched Lori and Carl, who were surprisingly not crying. Jacqui and Allen listened to that announcement with neutrality.

_ "__The vacuum-pressure affects the oxygen between five thousand degrees and six thousand degrees and is used when the greater loss of life and damage to structures is desired._"

"It sets the air on fire…" Edwin uttered, his eyes locked on the floor and his voice a murmur. "No pain…an end to sorrow…grief…regret…" Edwin's gaze fell upon Dale, who stared at him with his eyelids peeled off. "…everything…"

Allen walked off, distant from the others, after seeing that Billy and Ben were in the care of Katjaa. He rolled a chair towards him and dropped his weight on it. His sight was fixated on the countdown on the wall. He was so close to the clock that the red light reflected from his visage.

"Lee!" Clementine called, clinging Lee's hand. Lee snapped from his spell and glimpsed down at her. "Lee. I'm scared. What's happening?"

Lee gulped as he squatted in front of Clementine and seized her shoulders. "Listen to me, Clementine…I need you to be calm, okay? I need you to be strong right now."

"Why?!" Clementine asked.

"Because…" Lee choked in his sentence. He exhaled. "Fuck it…look, Jenner locked us in here. And if we don't get out quickly, it's gonna be bad. But we're gonna get out. I promise."

Lee returned to his normal stature and looked at Carley. "Keep an eye on her?"

"Yeah, of course." Carley said with some reluctance. "What're you gonna do?"

"I don't know." Lee said in an earnest demeanor. "But I will open that door."

Daryl tightened his fingers around his bottle, before making his way towards the tough door and tossing his flask towards it. The bottle shattered in a million pieces and the door was splashed with whisky. "Open the damned door!"

Kenny appeared, running up to the door with a determination in his eyes, with an axe cradled in his hands. "Out of my way!"

Kenny braked as he reached the door and swooped the axe. The blow hit hard with an echoing sound, but it didn't even leave a scratch. T-Dog broke a fire emergency case that contained another axe, and threw it at Daryl. "Daryl!"

Daryl joined by Kenny's side, and the two struck the door alternatively like two men digging for diamonds in a mine. The strikes made a resounding noise that repeated itself after each turn.

"You should've left well enough alone." Edwin said. "It would've been so much easier."

"Easier for who?!" Lori demanded. Her eyes were gorked out in disbelief of what Edwin was saying.

"For all of you." Edwin said. "You know what's out there. A short, brutal life, and an agonizing death."

Edwin twisted his rotating chair towards Andrea, who was sitting on the ground. "Your…your sister, what was her name?"

"Amy." Andrea said, followed by a snivel.

"Amy." Edwin repeated. "You know what this does. You've seen it."

"That doesn't mean I wanna die!" Andrea riposted, jerking her head forward as a tear slid down her cheek.

"That's just your self-preservation instinct talking." Edwin turned to Lee. "What about you? Is that really what you want for your daughter?"

"I. Don't. Want. This!" Lee said between teeth, pausing after each word.

Kenny appeared beside Lee and dropped the axe on the floor, before he curled over the computers and panted heavily. He seemed to have given up on axing the door, but Daryl kept at it. "Can't make a dent."

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher." Edwin stated.

"Well, your head ain't!" Daryl sputtered, running towards Jenner with his axe raised.

Rick, Lee and Dale stepped in the way and grabbed him, preventing from continuing.

"Just back up! Just back up!" Rick growled, pushing Daryl away, which seemed to calm him.

"You do want this." Edwin told Rick in a determined tone. "Last night you said it was just a matter of time before everyone you loved was dead."

Lori's jaw drooped and she shifted her attention elsewhere. Kenny rolled his eyes and passed his hands through his mullet. "What?! You really said that, Rick? After all your big talk?"

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?!" Rick said.

"There is no hope." Edwin replied. "There never was."

"There's always hope!" Rick argued. "Maybe it won't be you, maybe it won't be here…but somebody, somewhere…"

"What part of everything is gone don't you understand?" Edwin enquired. "This…this is the end…this is what takes us down…this is our extinction event."

"This isn't right!" Carol said. She was barely comprehensible due to the snot leaking from her nose and her dried throat. "You can't just keep us here!"

"One tiny moment…a…a…a millisecond. No pain." Edwin tried to convince her.

"My daughter doesn't deserve to die like this!" Carol blurted out.

"Wouldn't it be kinder?" Edwin enquired. "More…compassionate to just grab your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?"

Lee turned his torso around as he heard a gun cocking. His eyelids stretched out as he saw Larry storming into the scene with a shotgun in his arms, Lilly trying to halt him but Larry just kept going.

"Whoa, whoa! Larry, no!" Lee screamed, reaching his arms towards the old man but he shoved him aside, sending him against the terminals.

"Dad, dad, please, you don't wanna do this…" Lilly begged, her cheeks red and shining from a few shed tears.

Larry raised the gun and aimed it at Edwin's face. Edwin just looked back at Larry with no emotion in his visage, whilst Larry breathed heavily and had a rose face from the rage. "Now listen to me, you little shit! I served in the military whilst you were still wearing diapers. I know how to use this shotgun and don't think I won't! I've had a miserable fuckin' life, and the only nice thing I have in this world is my daughter Lilly, you hear me?! So you open that door, or I swear, you'll regret the day you came crawling outta your mother's womb."

"Larry, hear me out…" Rick comforted him, hunching his back forward, lowering his head but keeping his gaze up. "I'm pissed at him too, but if you kill him, we'll never open that door and…"

Larry let out a war-cry, before moving the shotgun inches away from Edwin's face and firing a round. The lead pellets hit the computer screen that broke into thousands of different pieces, with four visible holes in it. Edwin flinched and whined as he clutched his right ear that was deafened.

"Open the goddamned door!" Larry threatened.

"Dad, just lower the gun, please…I think he's got the message…" Lilly pleaded, her voice desperate.

Larry sighed and soothed his respiration, before casting down his arms.

Rick drew a breath in relieve. His brain ran a mile per hour, thinking of something to say. "I think you're lying."

"What?" Edwin asked, recovering from the ringing noise in his hearing.

"I think you're lying." Rick insisted. "About there being no hope. If that were true, you'd have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. But you didn't. You chose the hard path. Why?"

"It doesn't matter." Edwin whispered.

"It matters. It always does." Rick disclosed. "You stayed when others ran. Why?"

"Not because I wanted to." Edwin revealed. He jabbed his finger towards the video-projection that marked fifteen remaining minutes, in which they'd seen the TS-19 video earlier. "I made a promise…to her. My wife, Candace Jenner."

"Test Subject Nineteen was your wife?" Lee asked.

"She begged me to keep going as long as I could." Edwin explicated. His words were accompanied by Daryl's bumps on the door. "How could I say no? She was dying…you know…it should've been me on that table. I wouldn't have mattered to anybody. SHE was a loss to the world. Hell, she ran this place! I just worked here. In our field, she was an Einstein. Me? I'm just…I'm just Edwin Jenner. She could've done something about this. Not me!"

"Your wife didn't have a choice." Rick opined. "You do…that's…that's all we want…a choice…a chance…"

"Let us keep trying for as long as we can…" Lori beseeched with the voice of a strangled cat.

Edwin stayed silent for a while. He looked back at Rick and Lee, before walking past them and towards the number pad. "I told you topside's locked down. I can't open those."

Edwin slipped his card, re-inserting the code. The door opened, and Daryl dropped his axe. "Hey! Everybody, it's open! Let's go!"

The crowd began hollering orders to get going, as they grabbed their families and friends and sprinted towards the passage in a frenzy.

"There's your chance. Take it." Edwin said.

"I'm grateful." Lee said, staring right into Edwin's eyes.

"The day will come where you won't be…" Edwin declared.

The two men exchanged one, final hand-shake, but Edwin pulled Lee closer to him and placed his mouth next to his ear. An aspect of confusion was stamped on his face, but once Edwin began saying his sentence, Lee's face lightened with what he was hearing.

Edwin detached from him and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Lee locked his gaze on Edwin. _No…it can't be…no, no, no…it…it…can't…_

"Lee, we gotta go!" Carley yakked, giving Lee's shoulder a shake.

Lee was yanked from his day-dreaming and gave Edwin's static, faintly-smiling figure a last glance, before spinning around and putting a hand on Clementine's shoulder and the other one on Carley's back. The three of them ran away, as the scientist's words dazzled Lee from the real world.

"Hey, guys! We've got four minutes left!" Glenn shouted.

T-Dog made a waving motion to the door. "C'mon, Jacqui, let's go."

"I'm not…I'm not going…!" Jacqui acknowledged. The mob of people stopped in the door, whilst T-Dog was frozen in place. "I'm stayin'."

"But that's insane!" T-Dog told her between teeth.

"No! It's completely sane." Jacqui replied, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "For the first time in a long time. I'm not ending up like Mark or Amy. There's no time to argue…and no point, not if you wanna get out." Jacqui pushed T-Dog away. "Just get out. Get out…"

"Dog…c'mon, man." Kenny said, towing T-Dog slowly back with the group.

Dale strutted closer to Jacqui, opening his arms in a telepathic manner of saying 'Jacqui, why are you doing this?!'. Jacqui just swung her arm towards Dale, and paraded off.

"I'm staying too." Allen revealed.

Dale's jaw fell to the floor. "Allen, no!"

Allen ignored him and just stared at the clock. Dale looked at the people standing by the door and fluttered them in a gesture to get them going. "Just go! Go!"

"Dale?! What're you doing?!" Andrea asked with a preoccupied tone, waiting by the door.

"I'll be right there, Andrea! Just go!" Dale instructed. Andrea looked at him but Dale reassured her with his wise look, and Lee escorted Andrea towards the group.

* * *

The group reached the main lobby. Glenn dashed towards the frontal doors and yanked their handles, but they were locked with the outside shutters closed.

"Get them doors open!" Daryl shouted.

"It doesn't work!" Glenn stated, giving a frustrated kick to the doors.

"Wait a sec!" T-Dog said, running up to the number pad on the wall. He inserted the same code he saw Edwin type when they got there. "Try it now!"

Glenn pulled the doors, but they still didn't budge. "No!"

"What about the window?" Clementine suggested, casting her finger towards the windows. She was balked behind her two adoptive parents.

Daryl tossed Kenny his axe back and the two rednecks ran up to the window façade. They distributed hits on the window with all of their might and strength. They were able to make scratches but their blasts just bounced off.

T-Dog came sprinting with a metal chair. "Daryl, watch out!"

Daryl and Kenny saw T-Dog investing towards the window, so they hopped from his path. T-Dog raised the chair and beat the window as he let out savage cries. The window remained sturdy.

Larry cocked the shotgun he had before and butted the stock against his shoulder to fire it. "Get down, asshole!"

"Who the hell had the idea to let Larry have a shotgun?!" Lee shrieked in a high-pitched voice.

T-Dog dropped the chair and leaped away from the gun's aim. Larry walked up to the window and fired a round. The pellets sparkled as they made contact, but still nothing. "Fuck! It's not breaking!"

* * *

Dale sat beside Allen, who was trapped in his thoughts with an empty expression. "Allen…! This isn't what Donna would've wanted for you!"

"She's dead…and you need to leave…" Allen bluntly said.

"Allen, think about Billy and Ben!" Dale insisted. "Are you really going to leave them without a father? They've already lost their mother! They'll be crushed if you do this!"

"They don't deserve me!" Allen said, tears now streaming from his tear-ducts. "I'm a fucking mess…and a terrible fucking parent…yesterday…I didn't even gave them dinner…I was so caught up in my shit…the kids didn't eat yesterday…what kind of father leaves his kids to starve…?!"

"Dale…" Jacqui appeared, putting her hand on Dale's shoulder. "Allen's made his choice. You should go before it's too late."

Dale pondered for a while. He couldn't just walk out the door, but he couldn't bluff and risk getting blown up. He got up with hesitation, before looking at Allen. "Please reconsider…think about those boys…"

* * *

"Rick!" Carol caught Rick's attention. "I have something that might help."

"I don't think a nail file's gonna do it…" Kenny sputtered, leaning on his knees as Katjaa rubbed his back. Kenny latched his side, probably from the gunshot wound Andy had inflicted on him.

"Your first morning at camp…" Carol said as she rummaged through her handbag. "When I washed your uniform I found this in your pocket."

Carol took from her bag a frag grenade. Rick inspected the object with a frown, completely forgetting he had picked one up from the police station. He grabbed it and thanked using a nod.

"Everybody, get down!" Rick instructed. Everyone obeyed as they saw what he bore in his hand.

Rick walked up to the window. He crouched and verified that they were all in cover and protected. They were all in a prone position, below the stairs and behind a few pillars and columns. He held his breath as he pulled the pin and let go of the safety lever, deploying the grenade near the glass.

Rick let out a throbbing breath and rushed away with feeble legs. "Ooohhhhh shit!"

The grenade went off, the air wave sending Rick flying and falling to the ground. The window cracked and shattered, the glass making a loud noise as it collided against the floor.

Lee rose his head slowly. "Oh my God…it's open! C'mon, let's go!"

* * *

Lee gripped Clementine by the hand and dived out the window. The sunlight blinded him as his blind pupils adjusted to the light. The grass was still a tide of dead bodies, and a few zombies lurked in the background, limping towards them as they noticed the humans.

Lee whipped out his Glock and shot a walker through the forehead. It snapped back and the blood spewed out a hole in the back of his skull, before it collapsed on the ground.

The group reached their convoy. Rick burst inside the RV, as he settled in the driver's seat and his family went towards the back. Lee followed after him, as Carley protected Clementine by taking her with Lori and Carl. She'd be safer when the explosion occurred.

Lee sat beside Rick and saw as the others leaped onto their vehicles. Rick stared at his watch, knowing that there were only a few more seconds. "C'mon…c'mon…Dale, where are you?!"

"There!" Lee exclaimed, beaming his finger towards the horizon.

Rick lurched his head and was relieved to see that Dale was bending over the broken window to get past it. Dale ran as fast as he could across the open field. Lee rolled down his window as he saw a walker lurking near the vehicles and shot it through the cranium.

* * *

Edwin, Jacqui and Allen sat around the computer that emitted the feed to the exterior security camera. Edwin narrowed his eyes and distanced his skull from the screen as he saw Dale stepping out the window. "They got out…"

A smile drew on Jacqui's teary face, as she and Edwin exchanged looks. Jacqui placed her hand on Edwin's and interlaced her fingers with his, as the clock reached then seconds. Edwin stared into her eyes in a mist of confusion. Jacqui used her second hand to grab Allen's palm, and the three people just waited for the last seconds to pass.

_No more pain…no more suffering…an end to all things…_

In the remaining seconds, Allen began thinking about Billy and Ben. He wondered how they were going to fare in the new world. They would probably grow up to be great men. The image of their faces on Allen's mind saddened him further…and he remembered that there were so many things he hadn't done with them…he had never gone to the cinema with them or taught them how to play baseball. He had never changed their diapers because he was terrible at it nor did he ever help them with their homework.

So many things to do with them…and so little time.

That's when Allen realized that what he was doing was wrong.

He jumped onto his feet, but by then the counter had reached zero.

* * *

Rick grinded his teeth as he saw that there were only five more seconds to the explosion. Dale wasn't gonna make it in time. "Everybody, get down! Now! Dale! Get down!"

Lee obeyed and he curled into a ball, so did Rick and the group. Dale, realizing that he was too far away, ducked behind a sandbag barricade just as the bombs detonated.

The air that paired inside the CDC turned into a gigantic ball of fire that grew and violently discharged, shattering all of the windows. The grass, foliage and bushes outside the facility were singed and turned to ashes whilst the bodies roasted like a barbecue. The blast wave shook the survivors' vehicles and threw a tempest of dust onto them. The edifice began rupturing, breaking the walls into colossal hunks of brick that came crashing down due to gravity. The remnants were engulfed in the ascending fire as the structure came down, turning the CDC into a decimated pile of debris and hills of stone.

When it was safe, Andrea hurtled out of Glenn's pizza car and found Dale lying behind the barricade. She lift him up with difficulty and they got back inside the car.

The light of the flames was mirrored in Rick's face as he lit the ignition. Lee's eyes couldn't be taken off that majestic spectacle of fire. The engine of the camper roared back to life, and Rick drove off into the endless road, the rest of the vehicles following behind.

His mind drifted off. He thought about Edwin, Jacqui and Allen. He couldn't believe how they had just lost hope and given up on everybody. Allen especially. He decided to pass the luggage of his kids onto someone else and take the easy way out. Everything was crumbling around him. Everybody was dying and killing.

For a brief moment, Lee felt slightly hateful towards him. Who were gonna take care of the twins?! Who were gonna tell them the bad news?!

"Hey. You okay, Lee?" Rick asked.

Lee stared down the road, pondering for a lengthy period. "I can't believe…just…they just…just…"

"No need to say anything else." Rick asserted, curving his eyebrows as his heart was daggered by an invisible presence. "I feel ya. It's a bitch…knowing that this shit has gone world-wide."

Lee sighed and reclined on his sit, resting his fatigued muscles. Edwin's words came back to him, which made his blood run cold. In a split second, he began feeling more uncomfortable. He started tossing in his seat, but he couldn't find a comfy position. He eventually gave up and just laid with his back pressed against the seating. He recalled as Edwin drew his arm and approximated his dehydrated lips to Lee's ear, and most importantly, he recalled that cold whisper.

_We're all infected._

* * *

**NOTE: Another arc concluded. If you've made it through this ridiculously long chapter, I wanna say thanks for all of your support, guys. You're all fuckity fucking awesome! Sorry if it took a while, this chapter was long and I had to edit a million times to make sure it was perfect.**

**In order to improve the story and cooperate with you guys, I'm asking you is there anything you have disliked in this story up until now? What were the positive and negative points in this chapter? And is there anything you'd especially like to see in the future? (No, Rebloxic/ParadisalBitterness. There won't be any LiLee.)**

**Don't forget to check out the preview for the next Season/Volume/Episode:**

**NEXT TIME ON THE WALKING DEAD**

* * *

**Kenny, Lee and Rick marched through the forest, all of them armed with a rifle. Rick was a few meters away from them, whilst Lee and Kenny lagged behind and spoke in private.**

** "****Things have been tough." Kenny said.**

** "****Tell me about it." Lee responded.**

** "****I'm not sure how much longer we got." Kenny said. "I think I'm leaving, Lee. Definitely. I was thinking going to the coast. Got a lotta boats there. Getting away from the mainland's the best way to avoid all of this shit. I'm serious about that offer, Lee. You, Clem and Carley can come with us."**

* * *

** "****My name's Dave." The man introduced himself. "That guy over there is Tony."**

* * *

**Larry fell against the side of the camper, clutching his chest.**

** "****Dad!" Lilly yelled, grabbing him. "He needs pills now!"**

** "****We can't stop!" Kenny argued back. "We're too fuckin' close to stop now!" **

** "****Lilly's right. We have to help him." Lee said.**

** "****We're almost to the river." Kenny stated. "Almost to the boats. Wanna get on a boat or wait around until the walkers figure out we're here?"**

* * *

** "****We've got a farm up ahead!" The beautiful, farmer's daughter said.**

* * *

**Billy walked away from the camp, searching for his brother. "Ben?"**

**He found Ben kneeling near a walker that was incapacitated, and could only move its jaws. Billy gasped and his jaw dropped. "Ben…what're you doing…?"**

* * *

**Kenny exited the RV and contemplated the vehicle that was blocking their way. "Well, if it isn't a fucking train!"**

* * *

**Andrea looked down the scope of her rifle and shivered to see a horde forming in the horizon. ****_Oh my God, _****she thought. ****_They're thousands…_**

**She ran back towards the group. "We gotta go!"**

* * *

** "****I don't care about safety." Clementine told Lee. "I care about my parents. They were in Savannah. I care about finding them."**

* * *

**THE WALKING DEAD**

**VOLUME/SEASON/EPISODE 3 – SAFETY BEHIND A LONG ROAD**

**COMING SOON**


	30. Déjà Vu

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 30 – DÉJÀ VU**

Lee looked at the walker that was stationary in a clearing in the forest. It was a bald one, having craters in its skin, revealing bits of brain and bone. It wore a torn olive shirt that resembled a filthy rag and not a cloth. The beige shorts, long socks and hiking boots showed that that man probably used to be someone who enjoyed outdoor activities.

But it didn't matter now.

It hadn't snowed since they reached the CDC. The forest was clear of any ice. The brown and yellow colors dominated the leaves of the birch trees. Lee was just glad that he didn't have to deal with the cold on top of the walkers. The cold is much worse. It pierces a person's articulation, latching inside their bodies and weakening them, putting the zombies in advantage because they didn't feel anything.

Lee hauled a sniper rifle in his arms, but he wasn't gonna use it. "Hey! Asshole!"

The walker's head slowly turned around towards Lee. Lee swallowed his saliva in an involuntary movement due to the horrific appearance of the walker; it didn't have any eyeballs and just two holes for orbits, making its head look like a Halloween decoration.

The zombie limped towards him, releasing a guttural sound out of its putrid mouth. Its lack of sight made it rely on hearing and smell, which caused its sense of direction to be disastrous. Lee stood firm in place, as the walker became closer to him. But before it could reach him, Kenny leaped out of a mass of bushes, brandishing a hatchet. He raised the weapon, and with a timed attack, he lodged the blade on the creature's skull. Its jaw went still like somebody had just pressed the pause button.

Kenny yanked his weapon off and the zombie fell on the ground, with a gap in its brain. A jet of blood squirted through the air. Rick appeared through the camouflage of the woods, accompanied by Carl. He sighed heavily. "Just another walker…fuck…"

"My guess is these fuckers have been eating anything that's wildlife out here." Kenny guessed, sheathing his hatchet and sliding onto his arms the sniper rifle that was previously on his back.

"There has to be something." Lee insisted. "I mean, a deer runs faster than a walker and the walkers can't reach birds or crows."

"I wish we could find something." Carl said, lowering his head.

"First hunting lesson, Carl. Patience. Let's just keep going." Rick said, scratching his growing stubble. He made a U-turn and proceeded blindly through the forest with Carl by his side.

Lee and Kenny strolled side by side, firing glances in all directions for anything that could satisfy their starving stomachs. The two of them lagged a few meters behind Rick, out of earshot.

"How you holdin' up?" Lee asked, despite knowing that the answer wouldn't be good.

"Bad." Kenny muttered, lowering his head and donning a frown. "I couldn't sleep all night. With all that shit that happened with Jenner yesterday…I couldn't rest."

"Same thing's for me." Lee related, nodding. "I feel sorry for Allen and all…but I just get pissed that he abandoned his kids."

"Suicide…" Kenny said like it was a forbidden word. "They took the easy way out, that's what they did! Andrea was really numbed down 'cause of Jacqui. Think I might've heard her cryin' last night."

"Who told the twins the…bad news?" Lee inquired.

Kenny exhaled and peered down at the tip of his shoes. "Katjaa."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I just can't imagine how those boys will grow up without parents." Lee confessed.

"Katjaa's been runnin' her mouth about them twins." Kenny disclosed, almost in a whisper. "She's been talkin' about adoptin' them."

"Uh…and what did you say?" Lee asked, stretching out his eyelids as he didn't expect to hear that.

"I told her I would think about it." Kenny said. "I mean…I wanna take those kids in, I do…but Duck's already a handful as it is. Raising a kid's tough, Lee. I'm not sure if I'll be able to raise three kids the right way. Especially nowadays."

"Whatever you'll do, I got your back, man." Lee told him. "I know you'll make the right choice."

Kenny pondered for a while, staring at the dirt that was full of sticks and pebbles. "Thanks Lee."

"You're welcome." Lee smirked.

The two men were silent for a moment, before Kenny swapped onto a more serious expression. "By the way, you've made up your mind yet?"

"About what?" Lee asked. He ran through his mind all the times he'd interacted with Kenny to remember what he was talking about.

"About getting the hell outta here." Kenny averred in a stern tone.

"Abandoning the group?" Lee said. "I don't think it's a good idea. The group protects us. We've made it this far because we look out for each other. Departing on your own adventure will backfire on you."

"Whatever you say, Lee." Kenny concluded, his words molded by a hint of frustration. "But I'm serious about that offer. You, Clem and Carley can come with us. We can't find a safe place, hell, we've tried a thousand times but we know how that story went. The only way we'll be safe is by finding a boat and gettin' off the mainland."

"Psst." Rick hissed, making a waving motion with two fingers. Rick squatted down with Carl, and Lee and Kenny imitated him. "There's a buck just up ahead."

Kenny and Lee moved beside Rick, and saw a marvelous buck just moseying around in the woods. The trees and vegetation allowed them to only get peeks of it, but they could see it clearer once it appeared on the clearing in front of them. Crusty leaves and branches snapped below his hooves. The animal halted and stood there, the light shining on it making it look angelic. It almost looked it was posing for them.

"Wow…it's so cool…" Carl mumbled with a glow in his eyes.

"Hello, dinner." Kenny murmured, raising his gun, steadying the stock on his shoulder and taking aim.

"Put that down, Ken." Rick instructed, using his arm to lower the barrel of the gun. Rick looked back at Carl. "Wanna go pet it?"

"Can I?" Carl asked.

"Of course." Rick said with a wide grin from his son's joy. "Go nice and slow, so you won't scare it off."

"I don't mean to be no buzz-killer, but that's a lost meal right there, five maybe." Kenny remarked with a frown.

"Just let the kid pet it, Kenny." Lee intervened, setting a judging look upon him.

Carl stood up carefully from the forest. With caution, he advanced out of camouflage, skipping over sticks that could break or leaves that could crack. He walked at a slow pace. The deer jerked its head toward Carl noticing him and it kept its gaze locked on him. Its legs bent a little, which made Lee think it would run off. Rick didn't note it though. He seemed to be in a trance, regarding his son with a foolish smile.

Lee wished in that moment that he had brought Clementine. She would have loved to pet the deer. But he had told her to stay with the others. Lee knew that if they found an animal, they would have to kill it, which wouldn't make her happy. Lee feared that he was beginning to shelter her maybe a little too much from the real world, but after all, she was only eight, right? Carl was seven, sure, but she didn't need to know how to hunt, did she? Still, he regretted that she couldn't take part in that magical moment.

Just when Carl was halfway from reaching the deer, a gunshot rang out through the forest. Lee flinched as he saw the deer fall to the side with a rufescent hole on its side, and worse, Carl fell to the ground.

Rick gasped, his eyelids spanned and his jaw trembled. "No! No!"

Rick leaped onto his feet and rushed towards his son. Kenny's eyes became peeled as the redneck gave a few steps forward and scoped out their surroundings with his rifle, staying close to the mass of trees that served for cover in case there was a firefight. Kenny's eyes rolled in all directions and often fell upon Carl. He hesitated between running to the open to help Rick or protect themselves from any attackers. However Lee didn't hesitate to get up and sprint towards Carl.

"Hey, guys! Careful, there might be more out there!" Kenny warned.

Rick ignored him and collapsed onto his knees. He slid one hand underneath Carl's neck. Carl had his eyes closed, and Lee perceived a bullet hole between his rib cage and stomach area. The projectile had gone clean through and a pool of blood was forming at a tremendous speed below Carl. His body laid on the ground in a sloppy position, the boy's eyes shuttered and his breathing latent, barely imperceptible.

"Fuck! Carl, Carl, c'mon, please, stay with me, please…" Rick begged in stutters, clutching his son and nearing his face to his visage. "C'mon, c'mon now…don't…don't do this to me, don't…"

"Shit…" Lee whispered, paralyzed in front of Carl.

"Oh my God!" A voice hollered behind them.

Lee sprang around and elevated his rifle in an instant. The man standing before them was a ginger hillbilly, with a leathery face and various moles. His face resembled a worn out cowboy boot. He wore a hunting vest with a checkered shirt. He had his arms raised in a surrender motion but grasped in one hand a rifle.

"I'm…I'm so sorry…!" He stammered. "I didn't know you were here! I shot the deer but…but the bullet went through…!"

Rick stopped sniffling and sobbing once he saw the man's presence. He set Carl down gently like he was a sacred artifact, before he got up. His mind and heart were being controlled by some kind of fire that blurred his thoughts. He clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth hurt and his breathing became faster as he reached for his revolver.

Rick walked with rapidity towards the man, gun in hand, and sent a punch in his face. The man, not expecting it, fell on the ground. His head was yanked to the side and a stream of blood squished through the air. The man rolled on the ground and moaned as he clutched his nose.

"Rick, no!" Lee adverted, trying to grab him but Rick continued.

Rick crouched down and put the barrel of his gun against the man's forehead, gripping his collar and raising his head. "I will kill you, motherfucker! I swear to God, I will end you!"

The man's eyes were locked on Rick's. In his bright eyes laid pure terror. For him to be dead all it took was Rick to draw his index closer to the trigger.

"Rick, no!" Lee blurted out. He gripped Rick's shoulders, and in an impulse driven by the fear that he would shoot, he gave Rick a strong pull. Rick lost balance in his squatting position and tripped onto his butt, but Lee's unexpected move made him fire a loose round into the air.

The man shrieked in a girly cry, winced and shut his eyes until he saw patterns in the blindness of his eyelids. The man opened one eye, realizing that he wasn't dead. He tapped different regions of his chest, verifying that he hadn't been shot. He could barely believe he was alive.

Rick panted from the fury outburst as Lee ripped the gun from his hand. Kenny got up and walked up to Carl, deeming that they were safe for now. He used two fingers to check the pulse on his neck. It was feeble but existent.

"Hey, Rick! He's still alive! He's still breathing." Kenny shouted. Although a sensation of concern was stamped onto his face, Kenny had a calm demeanor.

Rick got up. He still had that savage expression in him, but in a split second, he seemed to forget about the man. Rick shifted back and forth in a mood swing, one side enraging him because of the man's stupid actions but the other side made him emotional because of Carl who had been shot. It made him unpredictable. Lee never knew what he could do because of that.

Rick stored his gun in his belt and dashed towards Carl. "He's alive…?!" Rick sputtered, gazing down at his wounded son. "He's breathing…?! He's alive…?! What do we do…!? What the hell do we do…?! We've gotta—what do we do…?!"

"He's alive, but unconscious." Kenny observed, kneeled before the kid. "We gotta do something to stop the bleeding."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right—we gotta get him to the RV." Rick said. He was calmer, knowing that at least Carl was alive. He was back on his normal attitude, the leadership material guy who always knew what to do. "T-there's a first aid kit there."

The man got up, sweeping the blood away from his nostrils. Lee perceived this and glared at him. "Don't try anything!"

"O-of course." The man mumbled. "I-I'm Otis. Back at the farm where I live in…the guy who owns it once had a son who shot himself in the foot. He patched him up real good. He works on animals around the farm! He might be able to do something with the boy!"

"Another farm?" Kenny said, folding his arms as he got up. "I don't know if we should go. The last farm we were at was no good."

"I can't let my son die!" Rick exclaimed. "If they try anything, we'll just shoot this asshole right here."

Otis gulped at the menace. "The farm's just a mile away. And I promise, they're good people, at the farm."

Kenny spat on the ground. "Yeah. Last guys also seemed very nice."

"We'll discuss this later!" Lee roared, breaking up the argument. "Carl's barely hanging in there. We can't chit chat right now. Kenny, go back to camp and warn everyone. Otis, where is the farm?"

"You can see it from the road!" Otis indicated, jabbing his thumb towards the woods. "If y'all are parked just up yonder you gotta be on sixty-four! You'll snake around the road and it'll be right to your left! It's a little further away by road but you'll find it easy."

"Once we get there, meet us by the entrance." Kenny instructed, turning away to walk back to the group. "I swear, this better not be an ambush."

"It ain't!" Otis reassured with a convincing nervousness in his tone.

"If I don't see y'all safe and sound once I get there, we'll raid the place." Kenny informed with a staggering honesty. Kenny spun around and sprinted off into the forest.

"Help me get him on my coat." Rick said, removing his leather jacket.

Lee nodded, sauntering towards Carl. He used his hands to lift his body whilst Rick involved his torso in the garment. He wrapped it around him and picked him up, hauling him in his arms, as a speck of blood soaked through the cloth.

"C'mon, y'all." Otis ordered, waving his arms and jogging into the distance.

"We'll be right behind you." Lee said, as he and Rick followed Otis into the unknown.

* * *

Lee, Otis and Rick who bore a blacked out Carl in his arms had their lungs burning and aching from the exhaustion. The adrenaline helped them keep going but they couldn't deny that their muscles were tired and sore.

The outline of the farm drew on the near horizon. As Lee inspected the panorama of the farm, the memories of the dairy sent a shiver down his spine. It was like some sort of twisted déjà vu, like he had already gone through this. There was a big house in the center of the property, that was also painted white and had two-stories. The location was surrounded by a short wooden fence that was reinforced with spare parts of planks, doors and metal sheets. Towards the edge, there was a red barn too. The similarities made him a bit hesitant in going inside the farm like that, but he felt safer because Kenny was aware of what could happen and could back them up if it was necessary.

They reached the small gate. Otis advanced and opened it, allowing Lee and Rick to run inside. A girl was standing by the gate. She was a young woman who wore a hay hat. Her hair was short and dark, and in her green eyes and round features laid a natural beauty typical from a hard-working farmer's life.

"Where's your pa?!" Otis demanded with some stress hurrying his speech.

"He's at the house." The girl said with a heavy Southern accent. "What's going on, Otis? Who're those?"

"Ain't no time right now, Maggie." Otis said.

Rick and Lee stopped in front of the porch, both of them panting. The door flung open and a man appeared. He wore an impeccable clean shirt. The wriggles, the hardened visage, the scars, the messy stubble and the whitened eyebrows and hair gave him the air of an experienced and wise individual.

"What's happened? Who's this? What's going on?" The man asked in a row with a sense of confusion.

Otis brushed past Rick and Lee and approached the man. "Hershel, boy's been shot. We need you to take a look."

Hershel's brows pressed against his eyes as he understood the situation. He stepped aside, opened the front door, and beamed his finger inside the house. "Let's get him inside! Where's he been shot?! How bad is it?!"

* * *

Rick's back was almost glued to the wall. In front of him, in the dim light of an oil lamp, Carl was lying on a bed. Hershel, along with Otis who helped him whenever he needed an instrument, was performing the surgery on his son. Rick's t-shirt was covered in blood. With every twitch and sound of flesh being manipulated, Rick flinched and compressed his spine against the wall. He wanted to look away, but his gaze was hypnotized on Carl.

"I've got to pull this bullet out." Hershel calmly said. "Run that over that fire to sterilize it. And hand me that bottle of alcohol. Okay…I think I've got a hold of it. Hold him down."

Rick finally managed to look away. He couldn't support being in the room anymore. Suddenly, the walls appeared to be closing on him and the space seemed tighter. The oxygen felt heavier and he found difficulty in breathing. He ambled off outside, to get out of that oppressing environment.

* * *

Lee stood outside the house, by the porch, inhaling the pure countryside oxygen. He reclined on a chair, swooping away the sweat from his forehead. He thought about everything that happened. He remembered how he was controlled by the adrenaline that drove his movements, and he tried to calm himself. The hardest part of going through something like that was going back to a normal state afterwards.

Lee didn't want to leave Rick alone, but he was afraid that if Kenny didn't see one of them, he'd do something stupid. Just as this assessment zapped through his mind, he saw the camper along with the pizza car, Carol's car and the motorbike roll over and park in front of the property. The group flushed out of their vehicles. Maggie opened the gate and they didn't even look at her as they ran inside the farm.

Lee got up. Rick appeared through the door just in time. Lori and Rick trekked towards one another, as Lori grasped her husband in a suffocating hug. "Where is he?! Where's Carl?! Is he okay?!"

"This guy's working on him." Rick said, almost toppling over. "He seems to know what he's doing. I think he's stopped the bleeding, at least I think."

"Oh Rick…what are we gonna do?" Lori inquired, tears streaming down her eyes.

"I…I dunno, Lori. We'll figure it out." Rick confided.

Lee spotted Clementine and Carley and walked up to them. Lee kneeled to Clem's height and gave her a hug. "Lee, what happened?"

"Carl got shot, sweet pea." Lee said in a sad tone. "But he'll make it."

"You sure?" Clementine asked.

"Of course. Carl is strong." Lee reassured her, before returning to his normal posture.

"Lee, are you okay?" Carley asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Lee placed his hand on top of her fingers. "Yeah, yeah…'course."

"This place…" Carley mumbled, looking around at the property. "It's sinister. It reminds me of the…"

"…dairy." Lee completed her sentence. "But I think these are good people. There are a few young people here."

Hershel emerged, wearing a doctor coat that was drenched in gore. All eyes laid on him as he wiped his bloody hands with a rag. He talked with the blank tone of someone who had done those operations a thousand times before. "I've got him patched up. I pulled the bullet out of him and stopped the bleeding. He was real lucky. The bullet lodge in his shoulder blade…must've come out at exactly the right angle. Had the bullet been a little more determined, it could've gone right through his lung. If that'd happen, I wouldn't have been able to do a whole lot for him. He's still out…but I think he's okay. All we can do at this point is wait and see."

Rick stared at Hershel with a deliberate expression. He lent his hand and patted his shoulder. "Thanks, mister…I-I really…"

"Name's Hershel Greene." He said, shaking Rick's hand. "Don't thank me just yet. Your time'd be better placed in prayin' for the boy. I haven't had an answered prayer in a good solid few months. So I assume we're due to something good. Come with me. I'll introduce you to my family."

Hershel turned around and headed into the house, with the group following him. The living room that was the first room they entered was an ample space, made up of a chipped wooden floor and quaint furniture, yet the walls had been recently painted.

Hershel stood in the corner of the room, with the group and members of his family surrounding him. "I'm Hershel. This is my farm. You guys are welcome to stay here while the boy gets better. We've got plenty food harvested, because, well, the markets are closed. So you're welcome to stay here for the time being. Let me introduce you to the folks living here."

Hershel pointed his finger towards a buff girl, with long, silky hair and a big chin. "That's my eldest daughter, Lacey." He moved his finger towards a slightly cross-eyed man who had his greasy hair attached in a ponytail. "The one with the chip on his shoulder is my son Arnold." Hershel pinpointed the grumpy girl who had opened the gate for them. "My daughter Maggie's the one holding that chair down." Hershel continued with a boy with a toothpick dangling from his stubbly mouth, and who wore a band around his head. Beside him there was a blonde girl with ocean-like eyes chaperoned by a guy who wore a baseball cap and a blunt expression. "My youngest son, Billy. That's my other daughter, Beth and her boyfriend Jimmy." Hershel concluded with Otis and a bulky, ginger woman who had curly and broad hair, along with smooth skin. "That's Otis and Patricia. They live down the road, but since our place's safer than theirs, they're staying here until this whole thing blows over. That's about for us here. Lacey, could you go out and show them around the place?"

Lacey rolled her eyes. "Sure. Whatever."

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: Hershel was probably one of my favorite characters. His wise words made him a perfect mentor for the group. I'm glad I'm finally introducing his character. In the comic, Hershel has two extra daughters, Rachel and Susie, but I decided to cut them from the story because the cast was becoming too big, and I need it to be small for what's about to come. I decided it would be best not to introduce them than have them have stupid deaths early on. Also, in case you don't remember, Jimmy appeared in Season 2 and was a total red-shirt. I'll try to mend that situation and make him an important character. I wanted to put more content but the chapter was becoming too big. Thanks for reading and I'll see y'all next chapter.**


	31. Lie Of Safety

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 31 – LIE OF SAFETY**

Lori and Rick sat in two different chairs who were butted against one another. Lori posited her head against his shoulder while Rick had his arm wrapped around her neck. Their regards were fixed on the boy who slept like an angel. They felt each other's warm breaths on their skin. Carl was shirtless and had a large, bloodied bandage around his torso and his skin was pale. His jaw was hanging low and a rivulet of drool streamed down the corner of his mouth.

Although the couple was worried sick, that moment in one another's embrace gave them a tender rest. They could just repose and be with each other.

Carl reminded Rick of how Lee was when Morgan found them. Rick had lost hope of finding Morgan ever again. He had stopped contacting him and the last time he radioed was before they left the Atlanta camp. Only God knew where he was right now. He hoped that at least he and his son were alive and well. But what were the odds?

"He looks so peaceful…so content…" Lori mumbled. "I hope he's having wonderful dreams and enjoying his break from all the madness going on here."

"If only he could sleep until this was all over…" Rick said.

Lori threw Rick a salient glare and her hand flew in the air. "Jesus, Rick! We don't want him to be in a coma! What a terrible thing to say!"

Rick raised his head and looked at Lori with a gulp, blushing. "That's not what I meant! I—dammit, I just wished he hadn't to go through all of this shit with us. Is that so wrong?! I—oh God Lori, I'm so damn worried about him."

Lori seemed to be wordless as she sunk her head in Rick's chest as Rick slithered his fingers through her hair. Straws of ebony hair slid through the gaps between his fingers. "I love you, Lori. I—I dunno if I say it enough with all that's going on. I really love you. I've always loved you. I don't know how I'd get through any of this without you."

"I love you too." Lori muttered, gripping Rick's strong arm. She compressed her eyelids against one another with all of her might. "I love you so much."

* * *

When Lacey finished her brief and stagnant tour, most of them were having trouble settling in. The group lingered mostly around their convoy, where they felt safer. They were all preparing for a quick escape if those farmers revealed to be like the dairy farm-boys, or worst. The keys were left on all of the ignitions, guns with the strap off for a quick whip, eyes always vigilant whenever they saw one of the farm residents stroll by. Everything seemed normal so far, but so did while back at the dairy. Hershel usually tended to the animals and worked in the crop fields, Lacey isolated herself with her grumpy attitude, Arnold did pretty much nothing and Beth and Jimmy flirted whenever Hershel wasn't around to see.

Lee, Kenny and Daryl however, were reunited under the shadow of a tree, secretly talking, trying to look as unsuspicious as they could.

"So, what do y'all think of this place?" Daryl asked, his fingers strapped onto his crossbow's sling.

"So far, so good." Lee said. "Hershel took care of Carl and he seems to be doing fine."

"Yeah, but how does that prove anything?" Kenny inquired, shrugging his shoulders and elevating his hands.

"Well, back at the dairy, Brenda didn't even aid Jim." Lee said. "In here, these people are actually doing things for us, depleting their supplies for us."

"Yeah, but Brenda also took the time to bake us fresh bread and cook like forty plates of food." Kenny riposted, with his arms folded.

"Kenny's right." Daryl said. "We can't just trust these people's actions."

"Look, truth's that we can never know." Kenny insisted, putting his finger in the bullet wound located in his belly. "I almost died back at the dairy. That psycho, Andy, was about to kill my son. We have to be sure. I won't sleep at night until I know."

Lee crossed his arms and sighed, conceiving a plan. "I have an idea. That barn, it was where the St. Johns had their slaughterhouse. I suggest that during the night, we check it out. In the meanwhile, let's not do anything stupid. Carl needs to rest up."

Daryl shrugged and curved his mouth. "Good as any as a plan."

Kenny exhaled and pinched his nose bridge. "I can't believe this shit…"

"Keep it together, Kenny." Lee said in a low yet firm tone. "Just until sun-down. While we wait, try to talk to everybody and get as much information as you can. Inspect this place with your eyes. See these people's routines."

"Okay. Fine." Kenny said. "Also, where the hell is Rick?"

"I don't think we should've invited him into our secret mission." Lee disclosed.

"What? Why?" Daryl interrogated.

"Rick's with us, but when he gets angry, he gets reckless." Lee explained. "If we do find something incriminating Hershel or his family, I'm afraid he'll do something that'll backfire on us. The same thing goes for you, Kenny. Don't do anything stupid. Okay, guess I'll see you at midnight."

* * *

"Otis, right?" Lee said.

Otis was sitting on a tree stump away from the house, with a meditative and depressive attitude. His back was hunched and his voice was a hum. He snapped his head backwards when he heard Lee's voice and saw him approaching.

"Yeah?" Otis rumbled.

"I dunno if you caught it before. I'm Lee." Lee introduced himself. "You doing okay?"

"I wouldn't hurt a fly—I mean…" Otis explained. "I was there huntin', but I wouldn't kill no animal I wasn't gonna eat. I'm real gentle. I ain't violent at all. And I—I shot that kid. I understand why that Rick fella wanted to kill me. If I killed that boy…I'd a wanted him to do it…I'd a deserved it. We still don't know if he's gonna live."

"You can't worry yourself to death right now." Lee said. "Nothing we can do about it. You'll have to excuse Rick, we've all been…under a lotta pressure. Just in the last week, we almost died to a family of cannibals, we lost one of us in this overrun neighborhood and nearly got killed by a crazy scientist. We lost a lotta people. And a day after that, his son gets shot? He snapped."

"Neighborhood?" Otis repeated, his gaze locked away from Lee's. "That must be Wiltshire Estates. Patricia and I were there when all this started. Everyone in this area who couldn't make it to Atlanta decided to hole up there. It was a disaster…we didn't have no protection, once them things come in we had no way of stoppin' em. Patricia and I barely got out alive. We didn't have the National Guard protectin' us like they do in Atlanta."

"Actually, Atlanta is worse. I've been there." Lee told him.

"Really?" Otis said with a tone of astonishment, followed by a sigh. "Patricia and I were gonna try to make it there when summer came…we figured it'd be safer. Damn."

* * *

"Your son is awake." Hershel whispered in Rick's ear.

Rick and Lori both awoke from their profound sleep in which their arms were tangled. Hershel straightened his posture and folded his arms with a smile, watching the parents' emotion. Rick and Lori got up as fast as they could and dashed towards the bed.

Carl was sitting on the mattress, his chest in a maze of bandages. He inspected them with a frown as he looked around the room, wondering where he was. "Oh thank God!" Rick said, as Lori and he kneeled before the bed.

"Where's my hat?" Carl inquired.

Rick chuckled due to the fact that all that Carl worried about right now was that sheriff hat. "Oh son…I'm so glad you're awake." Rick climbed on the bed and hugged him while Lori kissed him on the forehead. "How're you feeling, Carl? Does it still hurt?"

"My shoulder does…bad…" Carl said, feeling smothered by his parents.

"Don't worry son…you're gonna be okay." Lori soothed him with watery eyes.

Carl smirked. "Nobody better've taken my hat."

T-Dog, Lee, Carol and Sophia appeared at the door. T-Dog knocked on the open door. "May we come in?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course!" Rick said, nodding. Hershel stepped aside to let them in.

T-Dog had in his hand Carl's hat, which he lent him. "Here you go, kiddo. I was keepin' it warm for you."

"Thanks, T." Carl said, as he picked up the hat.

T-Dog scrubbed his hair before he put it on. The hat covered his face in a somber shadow. "Don't mention it, kid. I'm just glad to see you're okay."

Rick got up while the visitors talked with him. Lee paced towards Rick. "I gotta say, Rick. Otis is really torn up about all this. If you could just, I mean—he seems like such a nice guy…"

"What am I supposed to say?!" Rick demanded in a low tone, arching his eyebrows and grinding his teeth. "'It's okay you shot my son'?! No, it's not okay! I can't just let it go."

"I just don't see the harm in…" Lee said, scratching his head. He felt a bit ashamed to have pissed off Rick and he didn't want to take away his current joy.

Carl gasped. "Somebody shot me? Who shot me?"

"Oh son…" Rick said in a smoother tone, facing his child. "I'm sorry. In the woods, a man called Otis, he accidentally shot you."

"But don't worry honey." Lori said. "Everything's gonna be okay now. You're gonna be fine."

Rick simpered and approached Carl, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Otis helped me take you here and his friend Hershel patched you up. We're going to be staying here while you rest. You've got a lotta new people to meet, Carl."

"Cool." Carl muttered. "I like meeting new people."

Carol gripped a shy Sophia's shoulders and gave her a gentle tug toward Carl. "You mind a little company? She wants to see you."

Lori grinned as everyone made their way out of the room. "Go on. I'm sure he'll love the company."

"Be good, Carl." Rick advised. "Get some rest after Sophia and Carol leave."

"Look at them." T-Dog said with a smile. "They look so cute together."

"C'mon. Let's let them talk." Carol said, before the two of them exited the room.

Sophia hopped on the bed, which had plenty of free space despite having Carl occupying it. "Did it hurt?" Sophia enquired with a glow in her eyes, looking at the gory bandage. The room was now empty, just the two kids inside.

"I…don't know…" Carl said, placing his index on his chin. He racked his brains, searching a memory, even vague, of him being pierced by that bullet, but there was none. There was only a deer, a loud noise, and blackness. "I don't remember. I think so. I bet I'm gonna have a big scar!"

"Cool!" Sophia complimented with a giggle. "Scars are sexy!"

"Sexy?" Carl repeated, raising a brow. "You don't even know what that means!"

"Neither do you!" Sophia replicated.

"So? I'm not the one who tried to say it." Carl said, reclining on the wooden bed.

"It's the grown-up word for pretty." Sophia said, scratching her head. "I think."

"Well, scars aren't pretty." Carl revoked, concluding with a painful snort.

"I'm glad you're okay." Sophia conveyed.

Carl was opening his mouth to speak when Sophia lunged at him. Her lips contacted with Carl's cheek, and made an audible smooching sound. Carl recoiled his head, narrowing his eyelids and twisting his lips.

"Ew!" Carl exclaimed with a long aversion sound. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand with fervor. Sophia looked at him with a wide smile. "Gross!"

* * *

Lori stood outside the house, alone. The wind swept her black hair in front of her face. She stared at the horizon in a never-ending passivity, immersed in her thoughts. The sky had grown darker. A myriad of reflections cruised through her mind, most of them haunting and made her shiver. Not due to the cold, though.

Dale appeared, interrupting her meditation. "Lori?"

"What can I do for you Dale?" Lori asked in a blunt tone. Her voice showed that she didn't wish to be disturbed. Dale perceived this but just ignored it.

"I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen." Dale expounded in a direct manner. "I'm an old man, too old for arguments. So I want you to know that I don't really want this to become one. I'm going to say what I have to say and then I'm done."

Lori looked back at him. Her eyebrows stiffened, and a part of her had an idea of what he was going to talk about. "Rick is the backbone of this group. He's the one stable thing we've all got. Lee's the second-in-command, sure, but Rick is the one who calls the shots. He knows this. That's why he's scared you can't tell…you know he's scared, but he ain't showing it. We need that. We need him. I don't know what you did with Shane. I don't know what you did to put ideas in his head, but if that baby's his…and not Rick's, I'm begging you…take it to the grave. It'll kill him. It'll be the one last thing that'll make him crack. And we don't need that. I'm not accusing you of shit so don't try to defend yourself. I just wanted to say my piece and I'm glad you sat through it."

Dale drew a breath to finish his sentence, as he removed his fisher hat. He turned around, and ambled towards the house. "I think they're done with dinner. Let's go."

Lori's eyes shifted their attention elsewhere. A noise escaped her mouth, as he moved her lips and clenched her fists, her nails almost penetrating her flesh.

* * *

The group sat around two tables, that were connected to one another. Arnold and Billy took the courtesy of improvising seats with crates, stools and even tree-stumps. Hershel was prepared for visitors, seen by his vast collection of tableware, but could never prepare for such a large throng of people. The Greene family ate with no hesitation, but the others hesitated in eating.

The kitchen was an ample room. Despite the enormous count of people inside it, there was plenty of free space. The furniture and utensils – oven, cupboards, lamps, cabinets, kettles, pots, saucers, colanders – were made out of wood, had a vintage aspect and had beautiful and detailed carvings into it, originating from two centuries before where the Neoclassicism style was the most recent fashion. The table was adorned mostly by legumes, vegetables and a platter with a pile of meat. The sole drinks available were water and natural orange juice. The tinkling noise of forks clattering against plates filled the room, and conversation was scarce.

"Uh, doc, no offense, but what kind of meat is this?" Kenny asked, his head lowered as he fiddled with the hunk of meat in his plate with his fork.

Hershel stopped chewing for a second. He swallowed his food and wiped his mouth with his decorated napkin. "Well, it's, uh, it's pork. Why the question?"

"Nothing." Kenny said, as he cut a slice of meat, stalling as much as he could.

Lee cleared his throat. "We've had a…lotta problems with strangers in the past. Last farmers we met were cannibals."

Maggie, Beth, Jimmy, Arnold, Billy, Lacey, Otis and Patricia all went still like they had received a punch to the gut. Lee passed his hand through his head. "This is, we're not implying anything. It's just…we've become a little wary."

"It's, uh, understandable." Hershel said. "I just never thought the outside world was that bad."

"It is…it is…" Rick mumbled with a sorrowful frown.

"I can, uh, assure you this meat is totally fine." Hershel asserted. "I'm not sure how that's for a guarantee, but it's the best I can do."

Silent tumbled upon them. That simple phrase actually seemed to work, as one by one, they began eating their food calmly. The Greene family picked back up right after.

"I'm gonna take a plate to Carl." Rick said, as he got up in a sudden move.

Glenn set down his fork and knife, as he had little appetite. He saw as Rick served an empty plate with vegetables, potatoes but didn't take a slice of meat. As he exited the room, his gaze fell upon Carley.

Maggie was eating her food calmly, disgusted by the thought that people like her could do something such as kill people and feast on them. Her eyes flicked upwards and her eyes locked on Glenn. He was in some sort of hypnosis, but he didn't even realize it. He was staring nonstop at that new girl, what was her name? Carla? Carrie? She didn't remember. She was whispering something into Lee's ear that made him chuckle in a discreet manner. Maggie felt a tingling sensation of wonder in her chest as he continued her meal.

* * *

Maggie exited the house and saw Glenn sitting in the bench on the front porch. His breathing was inaudible as he looked at something uncertain. His inferior mouth corners exhibited that something was wrong with him. Maggie sat beside him. Glenn didn't even notice her until she spoke.

"Glenn, right?" Maggie said. She lowered her head and only glimpsed at Glenn through the corner of her eyes. "So, um…why you starin' at that black guy's girlfriend all the time? You didn't take your eyes off her during dinner."

Glenn didn't respond. Maggie waited for an answer, and after a few seconds, Glenn looked at her with peeled eyes. "Huh?"

"I saw you looking at her." Maggie elaborated. "What's up with that?"

"Before Lee came…I guess I had my eye on Carley." Glenn admitted, riveting his vision upon the sunset. "She's a bit older than me, but I liked her. I guess I'm just a lil' pissed I never made my move."

"Yeah. I guess she's pretty." Maggie said.

"It's not even that." Glenn said. "I mean, she IS pretty, but…I don't know. Everyone around me is pairing off. There's just not that many women to go around. On top of all that's going on around me…I just don't want to end up alone too. I mean…I want to have sex a couple more times before I die. Jesus, I'm sorry. I don't even know you. I didn't mean to spill my guts like this…"

"I'll fuck you." Maggie told him in a deadpan tone, staring right into his pupils. "If that's what you're after, I'll fuck you."

"What?!" Glenn demanded, distancing his head away from her.

Maggie sighed, shoving her hands into her pockets. This time, it was her gaze that was focused on the bright sun. "My boyfriend's gone. Probably dead. To be honest, he was a bit of a jerk anyways. You're the first guy I've seen in weeks that isn't related to me or that Otis idiot. Plus, Jimmy's already taken. It's like you said—our choices aren't very broad. We've gotta be proactive…or we're gonna end up alone."

Glenn stood still, as he sat properly on the bench and scooted towards Maggie. "Yeah…that does make sense."

"So let's fuck then. You wanna do that?" Maggie asked, with the grin similar to that of a teenager who is about to do something dangerous but exciting.

"Yeah. Sure." Glenn said with a chuckle.

* * *

Rick and Hershel leaned against the fence, watching the horses in the enclosure. The animals were coiffured, arranged and healthy. One of them even had its hair tangled in a braid. Probably endeavor of Beth. The horses lazily lowered their lengthy necks to nip at the grass. A few of them were laying down on their four hooves, preparing to doze off into a night slumber. In the distance, the sun was setting behind an array of mountains, painting the sky in orange tones. The view was magnificent, and Rick was lost in it.

"My father owned this place." Hershel elucidated. "I grew up on this farm. I loved it, but I wanted to be a veterinarian…so I did. Working on creatures great or small was my calling…and I did it for years. After my wife died my practice fell apart. She always held up the business end. All I did was work on the animals." Hershel's sharp eyes turned toward Rick. "I couldn't do much without her."

"Sorry to hear about that." Rick said without any emotion coursing through him. "How long ago was it?"

"She passed on almost six years ago." Hershel told him, regarding the horizon. "It was my father's dying wish that I came back and worked on the farm. It just seemed like the right thing to do. I've been at it for five years now. It's honest work. I can see why my dad loved it so much. There's nothing quite like living off the land…providing for yourself…knowing exactly where every piece of food you eat comes from. It's certainly come in handy in light of recent events."

"That's for sure." Rick agreed. "Seems like you've got a nice stable set up here."

"You're welcome to enjoy it while Carl heals." Hershel stated. "I'd recommend staying here in the meanwhile. It wouldn't be good for him to be out in the elements again—at least not right away. We don't have much room in the house, you'd still have to sleep in the camper though, but we've got plenty of food and you won't have to worry about being safe during the day."

"What about your barn?" Rick asked. He knew this would be a great excuse to see if these people were hiding something. "You think we could move into that place? Most of us are pretty sick about cramming into that RV."

"The barn? Trust me, you don't wanna go there." Hershel said. "That's where we keep all of our dead ones."


	32. Long Lost

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 32 – LONG LOST**

"Dead ones?!" Rick demanded. His eye-globes were widely visible in his orbits. "What do you mean dead ones?!"

Hershel looked at Rick with no reaction. "You know…the dead ones. All these people up and walkin' around even after they shouldn't be. The ones that are causing all this trouble."

Rick beamed his finger furiously towards the barn, as his expression became enraged. "And you're…you're keepin' those…things in your barn?! In your property?! Right next to where you sleep?!"

"Yeah." Hershel said in a calm state, narrowing his eyelids. "We're keeping them in the barn until we can figure out a way to help them. What have you been doing with them?"

"What do you think we've been doing with them?!" Rick interrogated in a dark tone. "You said yourself they should be dead. Shooting them in the head fixes that. We've been killing them."

"Killing them?!" Hershel vociferated, widening his arms. Lee was passing by when he understood their argue and approached them. "You've just been killing them?!"

"We're putting them out of their misery, and keeping them from killing us!" Rick rectified. "Those things aren't human. They're undead monsters. They're trying to eat us for God's sake."

"Hey, what's-" Lee said, but was fast interrupted.

"You don't know why!" Hershel hollered. His hands flew in all directions and his shoulders stood high. "You don't even know what's wrong with them! Nobody knows! We don't know a thing about what's happened and what's going on!"

"I know those things are trying to kill us." Rick said in a convincing tone. "And that the less of them are there the safer we'll be. And I know it's not smart to have a mess of them pinned up not thirty feet from your goddamned house! We should go in that barn right now and shoot every goddamned one of them in the head. It's not safe to have them there! We need to kill them before they kill us!"

Hershel's mouth quavered, as if in he hesitated to say something that was caught up in his throat. "My son is in there, for Christ's sake it!" Hershel barked.

"Your…son?" Rick asked in a lower and calmer tone. He recoiled his head in astonish.

"Shawn was bitten." Hershel explained, as he wiped two lines of tears sliding down his cheeks. He tightened his fist and placed it front of his mouth. "It was before we put the barrier around the house…I…I couldn't help him…he died after a couple days…and turned into one of them…I didn't know what else to do…so I kept Shawn in the barn. He tried to attack us. To—kill us. But I couldn't kill him. I couldn't bring myself to do that. When we found others, we just…kept them too."

Rick placed a hand on Hershel's shoulder. "Hershel, I'm—I'm really sorry. I truly am. I can't imagine what you've been going through. I feel ashamed of snapping like this. If I lost Carl, I don't—I don't know what I would've done. I don't think I could've lived without my son. But you've got to listen to me, Hershel. That thing in the barn is not your son."

As he finished his sentence, Glenn and Maggie strolled by with a smile stamped onto their visages. Rick removed his hand from Hershel's shoulder when the old man threw it a brusque slap. "Get your hand off me! Not my son?! What made you such an expert?! I don't know about you but the infected around here didn't come with an instruction manual. We don't know anything about them! We don't know what they're thinking—what they're feeling! We don't know if it's a disease or side effects or some kind of chemical warfare! We know nothing!"

"They're dead." Rick flatly stated, no emotion within him. "Before they get back up—before they try to eat you—they die. You said you saw your son die. He's dead. These things are rotting corpses with pieces missing. They're not sick people…they're dead."

"Rick, listen…" Hershel sniffled, wiping his tears with his palm. "These things could be in the early stages of recovery! They could be healing…and that's why things aren't working right. This is all completely unknown to us. We've got no clue how to handle this. I don't want to have blood on my hands if we find out they're alive."

"No." Rick said. "They're dead! I've seen those things with their guts dangling out their bodies. What you're saying doesn't make any damned sense."

"Rick!" Lee intervened. "Rick! We're guests here! We aren't making the rules! Just stop this."

Rick stayed silent for a few seconds. "You're right, Lee. Sorry. How many do you have in there?"

"Fourteen." Hershel informed, scrubbing his puffy eyes. "We had to raid nearby houses for supplies. Blankets, kerosene and whatnot. All our neighbors had turned. It's mostly them and their kids. And a couple who had wandered into the property. They can't get out of the barn. We've got them locked up tight. We're completely safe here. You don't have to worry."

"If you say so." Rick agreed with little determination. "I'm trusting you on this one. I hope you're right."

Rick brushed past Hershel, walking off into parts unknown. Hershel wiped his tears as he vanished back into the house, and Lee soon drifted away too.

* * *

Lee adjusted his coat as a cold breeze swept by. He usually just wore his regular blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, but that night was especially cold. His breaths came in swiveling vapors and shivers ran down his spine as he folded his arms, rubbing his arms for warmth.

Lee had told everybody about the barn. The thing could've caused more of a stir, but it got people on edge. Kenny was keeping watch that night, refusing to sleep. At least Lee, Kenny and Daryl didn't have to sneak into the barn to find about it.

Lee leaned back on the RV. The interior was crammed with most of them, and the air was hot and unbreathable. He enjoyed the cold air that was refreshing. Without street lights, the nights were darker than one would think. The moonlight was dim. Lee found himself staring at the vague outlines of the barn. He hadn't noticed it before, but as he tuned his hearing in the silent twilight, he could hear in the wind fading moans and the sound of wood creaking as one of them collided against the locked doors.

"Hey, Lee."

Lee turned his head as he saw Rick. He walked towards him and then stopped, leaning against the RV beside him. "Cold night."

"You betcha." Lee agreed.

"What do you think about this place?" Rick asked. "I'm not too comfortable about that barn full 'a zombies. I understand Hershel's need to keep his son alive, but I think we should kill all of those walkers, and leave just his son alive. It'd be safer."

"We're not the ones making the rules." Lee remarked with a frown. "We don't do anything. We don't tamper with the barn. Not unless we want our asses kicked."

"You trust Hershel?" Rick inquired, looking at Lee.

"Yeah." Lee said. "I don't he's planning anything bad for us. He took care of Carl. He was honest enough to tell us about the barn. I think you were the one who was a bit out of line today."

Rick lowered his head and swiped a bead of snot from his nostril. "What was I supposed to do? He has a barn full of walkers right next to where we live! Not to mention my family's here. I gotta watch out for them."

"Still, you didn't need to get into such an argument with him." Lee reprimanded. "Just don't get under Hershel's skin. He's probably in pain after losing his son Shawn."

"I think we should leave after Carl's patched up." Rick said. "I'm not sure if this is safe."

Lee was opening his mouth to speak when he heard a noise beside him. He snapped his head towards the source and Rick automatically let his hand hover above his gun. He saw the camper's door open, with somebody standing by it. It was Glenn.

"It's just me." Glenn muttered to him. Lee forgot about his gun.

"What're you doing out here?" Lee asked.

"I just couldn't sleep." Glenn said, passing his hand through his cap. "I'm gonna go for a…stroll. To get some air."

Rick arched an eyebrow. "What? Careful, Glenn. It's dangerous at night."

Glenn ambled off without looking at Lee. "Don't worry, Rick. I won't wander too far."

Glenn glanced in all direction, verifying that nobody was seeing him, and more importantly, no walkers were nearby. He walked around the RV and headed towards the gate, where Maggie awaited.

Rick and Lee saw Glenn disappear around the corner. Lee sniffled. "What do you think are the odds he just went to 'get some air'?"

Rick chuckled. "Boy's probably fallen in love with the farmer's daughter."

Lee straightened himself and headed towards the door. "I'm gonna go inside."

"I'm sleeping inside the house." Rick said. "Hershel allowed me and Lori to stick with Carl. 'Night."

"'Night."

* * *

"HELP!"

Lee awoke in a split second once that scream echoed through the farm. He jerked onto a sitting position. The morning light piercing the few windows of the camper blinded him, forcing him to shutter his eyelids as his pupils adapted. The others who piled in a tangled mess of blankets woke up in snorts and groans, having heard the scream too.

"What is that?" Duck asked in a muffled voice.

Nobody responded since no-one knew the answer. Lee looked at the cot where the kid slept and frowned as he saw that Kenny was absent. _Did he stay up all night?, _he asked himself. That man's paranoia sometimes gave him superpowers.

"Guys, we need some help over here!" Kenny hollered from outside.

Lee tossed his sheets aside and leaped onto his feet. He grabbed his trousers in a hurry and put them on in haste. Carley got up and reached for her jacket and her holstered gun. Dale's legs cracked as he stood in a hurry and reached for his rifle.

"Don't tell me there are walkers outside…" Dale mumbled.

"HELP!"

Lee tiptoed across the RV, careful not to step on anyone. He realized that those screams were Lilly's, which preoccupied him further. He burst out the door. Lilly was kneeled outside, with Larry collapsed on the ground. His eyes were closed and he didn't budge.

Hershel, Lacey, Arnold, Billy, Beth, Otis, Patricia and Jimmy came sprinting down the road path towards the gate, attracted by the commotion. They had been awake for a while, seen by the fact that they were all dressed up. Maggie was missing though. Dale readied his rifle and inspected their surroundings for walkers.

"He's had another heart attack!" Lilly said, followed by a sniffle. Her cheeks had tears running down them and her hands trembled. "His pulse is weak and he has difficulty breathing…!"

Hershel opened the gate and dashed towards the man, squatting in front of him. "What is his disease?"

"Ischemic Heart Disease." Lilly said. "He needs to take nitroglycerin pills, but we ran out."

Kenny had his rifle flung on his back. He gazed at Larry with a worried expression. "I'm not sure if he's gonna make it this-"

"Shut up, Kenny!" Lilly yelled. "Not this shit again!"

Hershel shot a glare at Kenny. "If there's something I've learned in medicine is to never give up on the patient. Don't be such a man of little faith, Kenny."

Kenny rolled his eyes and lowered his head. "Just trying to be cautious."

Hershel looked back at Larry. "We'll need to take him inside, leave him comfortable."

"Do you have…nitroglycerin pills?" Lilly asked.

"I wish I did, but I don't." Hershel sadly informed. "But I think Jimmy knows where you can get some. Jimmy?"

"Uh, yeah, there's a pharmacy down the road, near the town." Jimmy said, stepping forward. "You just head straight and let the road guide you. It should have what you need."

Lilly sniffed and swabbed the tears from her eyes. "Will you take my dad inside?"

"Yeah, of course." Hershel nodded, looking back at the mob. "Jimmy, Arnold, Billy, come help me take him inside."

Lilly got on her feet, watching with red eyes as the four men grabbed each limb of Larry and tried to lift them. They weren't expecting such weight and didn't manage to lift him at first. At the second attempt, they put more strength into their pulls and succeeded, although Larry was just hovering above the ground. Hershel, along with the youngsters hauled him out of there.

Lilly turned around, before she hopped on Daryl's bike. She twisted the keys and the loud engine roared to life. Lee sprang around and gripped her arm before she drove off. "Hey, what're you doing?!"

"I'm gonna go get those pills, Lee!" Lilly shouted, the tears in her face drying and a fire shining in her eyes. "Daryl's bike the fastest of all of the vehicles. Tell him that I won't leave a scratch on it."

Lee wanted to halt her, but was forced to let go of her when she stepped on the pedal and drove off. She took a demi-turn and speeded off with a reckless speed. Lee regarded as she vanished in the horizon. Just a few seconds after, Daryl appeared at the door of the RV, glimpsing in all directions.

"Hey, is it just me, or did I hear ma bike…" Daryl stopped mid-sentence, as he saw his motorbike disappearing down the road. He jumped off the RV and jogged after the bike. "Hey! What the fuck?!"

"Larry passed out. Lilly took your bike to go get pills." Dale explained, passing his palm through his face.

"Oh, that crazy bitch!" Daryl howled.

Daryl bent his body inside the camper and took his crossbow, slinging it on his back. He sprinted towards the pizza car, yanked the door open and sat in the driving seat. He switched on the ignition and drove off after her.

Lee wiped the sweat off his forehead. _This whole thing's a mess._

* * *

Daryl squeezed the steering wheel, driven by a fervor of retrieving his bike. He had never driven that car before, and he was still getting used to the controls. All his life he had driven his bike, and it sucked to drive a car. It was enclosed, he couldn't feel the freedom of having the wind slapping his face as he rolled at one-hundred and twenty miles per hour down a highway.

Lilly had the most rapid vehicle, so she had a head start and Daryl lost sight of her. But the road only headed in one direction, so the pursuit was easy.

Daryl put more pressure on the pedal just as he spotted a cloud of smoke twirling in the air. He narrowed his eyes and frowned, praying that Lilly hadn't crashed and destroyed his bike. He crushed the pedal further, giving the car another boost of velocity. Twitching his fingers, he kept his eyes wary to discover the origin of the smoke.

He was frozen when he saw a heavy truck, the ones used to transport baggage across countries. It was toppled over and stretched out through the entirety of the road, stopping him from continuing. Flames grew around it, melting the tires and combusting the spilled petrol. The smothering smell of burning flesh reached Daryl's nose, even with the window closed, which alerted him to a group of burning shadows moving in the wavy vision of the wreck.

"Oh shit!" Daryl hollered.

He took his foot from the accelerator and smashed the brakes. The car diminished in speed. The gravity sent Daryl frontwards, his chest hitting the steering wheel and his cranium millimeters away from the windshield. However he quickly deemed that the brakes wouldn't be enough to dodge the wreckage since he was too close to it already.

Daryl turned the wheel in a large angle. He miscalculated the effect on the car, which caused the car to drift and begin spinning around like a fun fain ride. "Fuuuck!" He said in inarticulate words as he wobbled in all directions.

In that sight of a slurred world due to the spinning, Daryl perceived that the car was directed towards the cliff. Before he could cuss, the car fell roadside down the cliff. Daryl could only feel as he was tossed around like clothes in a laundry-washing machine, before he struck the ceiling with his head, which made him unconscious.


	33. Darylina, My Baby Brother

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 33 – DARYLINA, MY BABY BROTHER**

_C'mon, little Darylina…get up on them feet 'a yours…_

Daryl's eyes cracked open as a familiar, hoarse voice called out to him. His senses slowly returned as the blurs in his vision dissipated and his hearing became clearer. The first thing that surprised Daryl was that he was lying on the ground instead of in the car, and the bottom of his body was wet. He could discern a cascade flowing nearby. _Where the hell am I? _A low grumble escaped his mouth as his head was pulsating with a headache.

"Agh…fuck…" He snorted as various heavy breaths escaped his lips.

He passed his hand through his torso. As he touched with his fingers his kidney area, his legs flinched involuntarily and pain shot through his nervous system. He flicked his eyes that were barely open as well as he could, and saw an arrow piercing him towards the end of his stomach. The tip was covered in red blood and with every time his abdomen swelled due to his respiration, a handful of the dark liquid gushed out.

He looked up, trying to find an explanation. He was laying in a pond. Looking up, he saw that he'd crashed down the steep hill in front of him. Trees were sticking out of the cliff in bent angles, with branches and roots poking out of the dirt. Among them, there was Glenn's pizza car, that was flipped over and stuck between the trees that prevented it from rolling down the hill. The paint-job and pizza logo were scraped off, one of the tires was blown out and the windshield was broken. Daryl hypothesized that he had been spat out below.

He wanted to get up, but his muscles were failing. His lips were drooped and mud was splattered onto his chin. He laid back, hoping to get enough willpower to get on his feet. Just then, through his dazzled ears, he heard footsteps walking in his direction. He wished to escape, to squirm away from this stranger, but he knew he wouldn't get far. His vision faded out, and blinked his eyes to see a pixelated image of the person arriving at the scene.. He blinked again, focusing his sight on the person towering above him. His eyelids stretched out as he distinguished that rugged face.

Merle fucking Dixon.

"Why don't you pull that arrow out, you dummy?" Merle suggested in his raspy voice as he kneeled beside him. "It could bind your wound better."

Daryl gathered all of his strengths. He knew this man wasn't real, just a product of his imagination caused by the dizziness and pain. But he couldn't ignore that hillbilly asshole. "M-Merle…"

A silly smile drew on the redneck's mouth, adorned with stubble. "What's goin' on here? You takin' a siesta or something?"

"…a shitty day, bro…" Daryl whispered. He tried to speak low, because with each word, his stomach sent a painful signal across his whole body.

"Like me to get yer pillow?" Merle proposed with a mocking shrug and an annoying smile. "Maybe rub your feet?"

"…screw you…" Daryl told him.

"Huh-uh. You're the one screwed by the looks of it." Merle said. He inspected Daryl with his eyes. "All them years I spent tryin' to make a man outta you, this what I get? Look at you. Lying in the dirt like a used rubber. You're gonna die out here, lil' brother. And for what?"

"…my bike…"

"Noble cause." Merle said. "Some bitch took yer bike and you lying in this pond, waiting for the dead come knock."

"…shut up…"

"'Cause I noticed you ain't lookin' for ol' Merle no more." Merle said, arching his brows.

"…tried like hell to find you…"

"Like hell you did." Merle said. "You split, man. Lit out first chance you got."

"…you lit out." Daryl remarked. "…you…you shot at Rick…Lee…and the others…then bolted…"

"Is this the same nigga and the same cop who cuffed me to that rooftop?" Merle asked. "This who we talkin' about here? You their bitch now?"

"…I ain't nobody's bitch…"

"You're a joke is what you are." Merle hissed, his blue-snake eyes locked on Daryl's that often lost focus. "Playin' errand-boy for a buncha pansy-asses, niggas and democrats. You're nothing but a freak to them. Redneck trash. That's all you are. They're laughin' at you behind your back. You know that, don't you? I got a little news for you, son. One day they gonna scrape you off their heels like you was dogshit."

Daryl's eyes began rolling back on his cranium, but Merle gave him a pat to his chest, which made his eyes concentrate once again on his face. "Hey. They ain't your kin, they ain't your blood. Hell, you had any nuts in that sack 'a yours, you'd go back there and shoot your pal Rick in the face fo' me."

Merle placed his greasy fingers thick as turnips on Daryl's cheeks and approximated his face to his. "Now listen to me. Ain't nobody ever gonna care about you except for me, little brother. Ain't nobody ever will." Merle gave him a few taps of encouragement in his visage and chest. "C'mon, get up on your feet before I have to kick your teeth in. C'mon…let's go!"

Merle began giving him pushes that rattled his body. Daryl looked back at him, but he was no longer there. _The fuck? _He raised his head and saw a male walker on its knees, chewing on his boot.

Daryl was invaded with a boost of adrenaline that seemed to give him strengths. Daryl crawled back and removed his foot from its mouth. He retracted his leg and then kicked the zombie in the face. The walker was thrown to the ground, his head snapping to the side and the jaw dislocating, while Daryl spotted another walker, an African-American one with sickening sandy eyes, heading towards him in the distance.

He reached out for his crossbow that was just at the reach of his fingers, but the first walker got on its knees and lunged at him. Daryl could only grasp a rock, that he swung in the zombie's head direction. However the dead corpse pinned his arm down, making him fail his hit and Daryl just struck him in the shoulder. The walker stood above Daryl, battering its jaws and not feeling any pain from the blow.

Daryl pushed it to the side and the walker fell off him, rolling around on the dirt. Daryl's eyes sprang in all directions until he saw a long wooden staff. He picked it up and gripped it in both ends in a horizontal position. He positioned himself on top of the walker, and banged him with the staff. Its jaw broke off its skull and a squish of blood splattered onto its vacant eyes. Daryl struck him with another blow, this time to its forehead. The cranium cracked and caved in, destroying the beast's brain and killing it for good. He then grabbed it like a spear, and impaled it through the eyeball with it. The staff made the head explode with brain matter and pink meat that were similar to scrambled eggs.

Daryl turned around and saw the second zombie approaching. The pain from his wound was latent and he barely felt it. He picked his crossbow up, but he needed an arrow. He looked down at the one sticking out of his abdomen. He wasn't fit to fight the walker while standing on his feet, and that was the only available solution. He wrapped his fingers around the arrow and slowly dislocated outside. The rear end of the arrow had artificial feathers, that widened his hole and scratched his skin off. The sensation of having his body messed with from the outside warmed Daryl's esophagus with the imminent presence of nausea. Daryl gave it a good yank and it came off.

He posited the crossbow between his legs. He put the arrow in his mouth while he pulled back the string. He armed the arrow, before he laid on his back and butted the stock against his shoulder. The walker was just two steps away from him. Taking his time to steady the shot, he fired and the arrow went clean through the zombie's head.

The zombie collapsed on the ground instantly, hitting the ground with his head which caused the arrow to dig deeper into his cranium. Daryl laid back, panting and recuperating from the close call. The adrenaline was disappearing, and he was now feeling the excruciating pain on his belly and the exhaustion in his muscles.

Daryl spent about five minutes stretched out, accompanied by the rotting carcasses of his kills. He listened and tuned in into that peaceful sound of the stream. He was still in a bad shape, but he was no queer. He was a man. With a newfound determination, he sat on his ass. He had to focus on getting out of there. He took off his wet shirt and bandages his stomach with it, making a ball of cloth around his injury. He tied it together, and the bandage was compressed against his injury in the form of a belt.

"Son of a bitch was right." He said to himself.

He looked back at those zombies. Even in his condition, he had been the fittest and survived the encounter with those two weasels. Daryl felt proud, felt superior to those monsters that had taken over the world and to him, they were nothing but rats. Those were two fine goddamned kills and he had a creepy wish to take home a souvenir.

He walked up to the dark zombie, and noticed that it was wearing hiking boots. He bowed down and untangled its shoe laces. He tossed them aside before he whipped out his knife. He slithered towards its head and sliced off its ears with the skill of a butcher. The flesh made a noise that was a melody to Daryl. After recovering the two ears, he walked up to the other one and repeated the same drill.

After puncturing the severed ears, he grabbed the shoe lace and slid the two pairs of ears through it. He tied the necklace around his neck, making a knot behind his neck, before he looked up at the cliff awaiting to be climbed.

He marched around it to evade the pizza car, to a spot that was clear and seemed climbable. It would be hard, since Daryl didn't see a lot of support points to put his feet or hands, but it wouldn't get any better. He grabbed the staff he used to kill the first zombie and started climbing the cliff.

The rocky and dirt terrain was treacherous, and on his first step, the dirt gave in and dissolved below his foot. He hoisted his arm and grabbed one of the trees leaning on the hill. Using it was a support, he started hiking up the slope.

Daryl halted once the pain made him wince. He didn't have a lot of place to rest since he had minimal ground below his feet. He leaned onto another tree, inhaling and exhaling calmly. He looked down, and saw the nasty fall awaiting him. The summit wasn't too far away, problem was that it was too precipitous. He remained veered against the tree, reposing, at the same time investigating his surroundings and thinking of a way to approach them.

A band of crows flew by and hooted, making Daryl flinch. His gaze fell on the sky, just as he heard more footsteps. Merle's stupid face appeared again on top. Daryl dodged his accusing eyes. If it hadn't been clear now, Merle was definitely a hallucination, since there was no way he'd gotten up there.

"Please, don't feed the birds! What's the matter, Darylina?" Merle asked in a loud banter. "That all you got in ya? Throw away that purse and climb."

"I liked ya better when you was missin'." Daryl said, struggling to get a good angle to stand at.

Merle chuckled. "Now c'mon, don't be like that. I'm on your side."

"Oh yeah? Since when?" Daryl inquired.

"Hell, since the day you were born, baby brother." Merle said. "Somebody had to look after that worthless ass 'a yours."

"You never took care 'a me!" Daryl spat. "You talk big game but you were never there. Hell, you ain't here now. Guess some things don't change."

"Well, I tell you what…I'm as real as your chupacabra." Merle told him. "That creature ya saw in that hunting trip? Wasn't real."

"I know what I saw!" Daryl protested.

"And I'm sure them shrooms you ate had nothing to do with it, right?" Merle said.

"You best shut the hell up!" Daryl shouted.

"Or what?" Merle asked, pretending to shake in fear. "You gonna come here and shut my mouth for me? Well, c'mon and do it man, if you think you're man enough."

Daryl made more progress up the hill. He still wasn't able to go very far, which made Merle give him a glare. "Hey! Kick off them high heels an' climb, son!"

Daryl kept climbing as fast as he could while Merle grinned down at him. "You know what? If I were you, I'd take a pause for the cause, brother. 'Cause I just don't think you gonna make it to the top. C'mon, c'mon, little brother. Grab your friend Rick's hand."

Daryl's hand grasped the top of the cliff. He pulled himself up, and as he raised his head, Merle had vanished. Daryl passed his legs over and stood up, looking in all directions. "Yeah! You'd better run!"

He looked to his left, and saw a road sign indicating that the town was nearby. He sprinted off into the horizon, hoping to get there on good timing.

* * *

Daryl panted as he had arrived at the town. The trees and the forest became scarcer. The beat-up path became a straight asphalt road that led into the abandoned town. He panted as he stopped behind a tree, scoping out a building titled Steve's Pharmacy. He spotted his motorbike parked outside, so Lilly had to be there.

The small town was nothing but destroyed. Most of the buildings were intact and in good condition. A majority of the streets were clear from debris or wrecks. The thing was that it was forgotten, forsaken and barren from any life. He stepped out of his shelter just as he heard a high-pitched scream emanating from inside.

He equipped his crossbow and ran inside. The window had a cardboard strapped onto it, saying 'TAKE WHAT YOU WANT. GOD BLESS' and the door was flung open. Daryl burst inside. The pharmacy was a place of empty rackets, whose rare contents were sloppily scattered around the shelves.

Daryl saw Lilly being pummeled against the counter by a bald, decrepit walker. She latched her hands onto its forehead and jaw, as the zombie moved his head in brusque jerks and essayed to get a bite out of her fingers. Daryl raised his weapon and looked down his aiming notch. The zombie was wobbling all over, and he feared to hit Lilly, but he took the shot anyways.

The arrow whizzed through the air at the speed of light and it traversed the walker's head. The lurker went limp, his jaw half-hanging. Lilly shoved the cadaver and aside and gawked at Daryl with a sense of amazement.

"Daryl…what the hell're you doing here?" Lilly asked, straightening and recomposing herself.

"Getting my bike back." Daryl said, as he marched back outside.

Daryl approached his bike, passing his fingers through it and inspecting it for scratches. Lilly followed him outside, shaking her head. "Never take my bike again, psycho lady!"

Lilly sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I just had to get those pills for my dad. H-He was dying! I had to be fast."

Daryl opened his legs and saddled onto the bike, feeling the leathery handles before he switched the ignition on and the engine growled with a hammering twitter. Smoke escaped through the exhaust. "Got them pills?"

Lilly reached into her pocket and exhibited a pillbox. "Yes."

"Then get on before I leave your sorry ass here." Daryl said.

Lilly obeyed, lowering her head as she sat behind Daryl. She peeped at Daryl, and was shocked by his appearance. His entire skin was covered in a grey and brown dust, like he had entered a coal mine. He had cuts and bruises across his body and blood soaking through his vest. "What happened to you?"

Daryl drove off, making a demi-turn and speeding away from where he'd come from. "Shitty day."


	34. Humble Liar

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**Chapter 34 – HUMBLE LIAR**

Lee opened the door to the house, entering the main hallway. Despite him having spent a day and a night in that property, he'd only known Hershel's dining room and hadn't wandered a lot into the other rooms. He scratched his head with the sensation of feeling lost inside that household he barely knew. He looked to his left, to the open arc that led into the living room where he spotted Patricia sitting in the couch with Otis.

Lee poked his head inside the chamber. "Patricia, Otis, no mean to disturb, but do you know where Hershel is?"

Patricia darted her thumb towards the staircase. "In his room. Easy to find, last door to your right."

"Okay. Thanks." Lee smiled.

Lee was already walking towards the stairs at the end of his sentence, and as he turned his face, he bumped against an individual. A breath exited his mouth and he closed his eyes in a reflex as he backed away a few steps. Opening his eyes, he saw Glenn standing in front of him with eyelids pulled back, adjusting his hat.

"Glenn? What're you doing here?" Lee asked. "You didn't sleep in the RV!"

Glenn checked nobody was spying on them and made him a gesture to talk low. "Ssh! Look, I-I-I was with uh…"

"You were with Maggie, right?" Lee whispered.

Glenn lowered his head. "Yeah."

Lee pondered for a few seconds on what to say. "Look, Glenn, I don't want to tell you how to live your life, but I'm not sure how Hershel would react to this. We're guests and we don't want to shorten our stay here. I'm just asking you to think this through. And hell, if you're gonna do this, at least be more discreet!"

Glenn grinned. "Yeah, yeah, got it, pops. By the way, what was all with the yelling?"

Lee rolled his eyes. "Larry passed out and Lilly went on to find nitroglycerin pills for him. Daryl chased after her."

"Whoa, that's messed up!" Glenn said. "Shouldn't we send some people to go get them?"

"Maybe, but I think Daryl has the situation under control." Lee said. "Now please let me pass, I gotta go say a few things to Hershel."

Glenn nodded, passing right by him. "You're gonna keep this a secret, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

Lee sensed Glenn's joy as he skipped down the stairs. Lee shook his head as he advanced up the stairwell. When he reached the second floor, he directed himself to the door at the end, that was ajar, and knocked.

"Come in." Hershel said.

Lee swung the door open with a creak and stepped inside. The bedroom was mostly empty, except for a chest of drawers and in the middle, the broad bed in which Larry laid. He was stretched out in the bed, his eyes closed. Hershel was listening to his heart and lungs using a stethoscope. When he saw Lee enter through the corner of his eye, he straightened and removed the earplugs from his ears.

"Sorry. Just checking the heartbeat." Hershel said.

"It's okay." Lee said. "How is he?"

"Hard to tell. Fine. For now. But Lilly better hurry up with this man's pills. I can't quite do anything for him except to keep him in the best conditions possible."

"Well, you're doing your best. And I appreciate that."

"Excuse me for the question, but we lost television and radio a while back…how is the world out there nowadays? Is the government still up?"

Lee exhaled and folded his arms. "I don't think the government is still functional. It's anarchy in the streets. It's bad. I respect your way of dealing with the walkers, but here, the farm isn't dangerous. But out there, it's kill or be killed. People have gone mad. Tried to murder us. We lost a lot."

Hershel lowered his head. "Shouldn't've asked."

"Jesus…would you…keep it down, damn it?" Larry grunted, half-audible.

As he punctuated his sentence, the noise of an engine reached Lee's ears. He tuned his ears for the noise, trying to distinguish it, until he recognized it as being Daryl's bike. A sense of relief coursed through his body. "They're here!"

* * *

Hershel tossed two pills onto his hand and put them in Larry's mouth. He didn't do an effort to raise his head and swallowed them in an instant. Lilly sat beside him in the bed, with Daryl and Lee standing in the corner. Lee had a smile, something had finally gone good and he felt more cheerful with the glint of delight in her eyes. Hershel wiped his hands; another job well done.

"Well, he's fine for now." Hershel said. "I don't believe there's any reason to worry. Daryl and Lilly did a great job bringing back those pills for Larry."

"Are you sure you don't need water?" Lilly asked.

Larry shook his head. "Nah."

Lilly slid her hand past his hair. "Then try to get some sleep."

Lee looked at Daryl and his face froze. He had a tourniquet strapped around his waist, one of the sides drenched in blood and water while he reeked and was sprinkled with dust and dirt. It seemed like he had gone to Hell and come straight back. "What happened to you?"

"Drove off a cliff." Daryl explained. "Tell the Korean kid he ain't getting his car back."

"Are you sure you won't need any antibiotics?" Hershel inquired.

Daryl snorted. He was a fucking survivor, he didn't need no pansy-ass medicine. "That shit's for pansies. It'll heal."

"How many pills did you get at the pharmacy?" Lee enquired.

"A lot." Lilly smiled. "Seven pillboxes to be exact. We won't need to worry about getting more of them anytime soon."

Lee smirked, as he turned his head and looked out the window. The view extended as far as the eye can see, the green and endless fields of crops and animal life making the landscape look like a painted canvas. However, in this green painting, something was off. A dark, moving thing was shuffling towards the farm's fence.

A walker.

"Hey, Hershel, we got a walker approaching." Lee said.

Hershel removed his coat. "We'll go deal with it. Don't you guys worry."

* * *

Hershel and Lee strolled around the farm side by side, Lee trying to hurry their pace. It was unnerving how Hershel was so calm about having a walker making its way inside the farm, but back at the camp in Atlanta, it was panic as soon as a zombie reared its head. The duo rounded the corner, spotting up-closer the zombie. It was a bald male, bare feet, wearing shorts and a bright Hawaiian shirt.

Lee raised his gun and took aim towards the incoming walker. He shut an eye, getting a clear shot. "I think I can get it from here…"

"No!" Hershel interrupted, dashing towards Lee and gesturing him to hold fire. "I can't let you shoot him! There's only one. He'll be easy to get into the barn."

Lee holstered his gun and rolled his eyes, but he didn't say anything. He had to respect these people and their beliefs. Even if he didn't fully agree with them, that farm was safer for Clementine and Carley compared to what was out there.

"Be careful, Hershel." Lee advised, preparing himself in a stance in case a fight happened. "I don't need to remind you how dangerous a bite from one of this suckers is."

"I've done this a few times before, you know." Hershel admonished, his arms wide open as he engaged into his tactic. "They're only really dangerous when there's more than one. Go over there and attract his attention."

Lee moved away from Hershel until the two were separated from a few meters. The lurker stopped, indecisive on who he should feast on. "Over here, ugly!"

The zombie lurched its head toward Lee, biting the air. Its jaws made an eerie clacking sound similar to castanets. Hershel snuck up to it from behind and gripped its forehead with one hand and his torso with the other. "Got you! Piece of cake."

Lee swallowed the saliva in his mouth. Was Hershel insane?! His hands were in full contact with the zombie. If one of his hands slipped, the walker could easily take a chew out of his hand or arm. Seeing he couldn't do anything else, he just mentally prayed nothing would go wrong.

Hershel looked around, and spotted Arnold, Lacey and Jimmy who had appeared, presumably noticing that they had a walker that needed to be secured. "Lacey, Arnold, Jimmy, I'm gonna need your help getting him in the barn."

Unluckily, most of the group also noticed the walker that was being transported to the barn. Kenny was the first to react. He was chatting with his family on the porch, when he jerked his head to the side and spotted the five individuals. Kenny stood in a harsh way, sprinting towards Lee with velocity. Lee already knew from the heavy look on his face what he was gonna say.

"Lee, what the hell is this?!" Kenny demanded.

"Kenny, calm down. A walker stumbled upon the farm. We're taking it inside the barn. And that's final."

Kenny shook his head and folded his arms. "I'm starting to wonder if me and my family shouldn't just leave right now. I mean, we're safe here! Keeping those walkers in there is just gonna put us in more danger."

"Look, Hershel believes this is how the walkers should be handled. And it's our duty to follow his rules."

"I'm starting to think maybe we oughta shoot all of those dead bastards in there."

"Kenny! I'm trusting you to keep cool on this one, okay? Don't make rash decisions!"

Lee gave Kenny a firm glance, before he caught up with the three teenagers and the old man. Kenny stood in his place, wary of them. Hershel strolled with the zombie towards the barn. The zombie waved its arms, growled, flicked the two moons filling his orbits in all directions, but Hershel had bizarrely a great control over the creature, emanating from his years of taming beasts. "Go around back and distract the others."

Jimmy, Arnold and Lacey sprinted and disappeared around the corner of the barn. Hershel unlocked the barn door. Lee gulped nervously. He wasn't sure of how many walkers were there, but it was almost two months since the beginning, and if they had been harboring zombies ever since then, there could be a beehive of them in there. "Hey, Hershel, I don't think it's a good…"

He was cut off when a fat zombie, as inflated as a blob-fish, toppled over on the barn and rammed the door with its massive weight, bashing the door against Hershel's face. Hershel let go of the lurker he was grasping earlier and crumbled to the ground, with no time to react. The fat zombie rolled in the dirt, making an effort to get up but its dead lard kept him on the ground. The Hawaiian guy though, didn't took long to start crawling towards Hershel who was still recovering his senses.

Lee immediately whipped out his gun and aimed towards the fat zombie's forehead. With a precise hit, he shot it through the forehead. It went limp on the spot, the grass spraying with crimson blood. Kenny's eyelids expanded as he reached for a pitchfork that was sticking out of a haystack.

"What I'd tell you, Lee?!" He vociferated.

Lacey, Jimmy and Arnold were on the barn's upper platform, squatted, over-looking the horde of twenty-something zombies trekking below them. They began to discover that there was an exit, evident by their soulless gazes that were attracted towards the open door and their drooling jaws.

"Dad!" Lacey shrieked.

"Dad, I'm coming!" Arnold shouted.

Arnold jumped off the platform like a ninja, but lacking the skill of one. He landed on top of one of the zombies, that was thrust onto the ground with an impactful thud. Arnold's mass made its spine crunch and its belly to tear open, causing an explosion of intestines on the hay floor.

Hershel began recuperating from the blow just as the zombie dug its nails on the dirt next to Hershel's foot and dragged its corpse towards him. "Ugh…God, no!"

Arnold rushed past the zombies in the dingy barn and tackled the zombie off him, standing above him. Easily provoked with the sight of his father in danger, just like he was always fueled by anger by the slightest affront, he punched the walker's skull with his gloved hands. Its jaw cracked in two but the creature didn't wail in pain nor did it feel the pain. His hits were savage, strong, but caused a considerable damage on his knuckles. "No! Not my father! Not my father!"

Lee's heart skipped a beat when a walker, dressed in old garments and bearing black, shaggy hair, trailed outside the barn. It advanced towards Arnold, who was stuck in a trance with his furious punches on the Hawaiian zombie. Lee fired a shot but it just scraped its neck. Kenny brushed past Lee with the weapon in hand, but by then, Arnold's neck was being ripped off by the zombie's teeth.

Lacey proceeded to leap to the floor, making her best efforts to push past the throng of walkers to reach her endangered brother.

Hershel got on his feet, witnessing in horror as his son was devoured by his own brother, a zombified Shawn. Arnold collapsed to the side like a child gone to sleep. His attempt to spit out words resulted in blood oozing out his neck. A straggled gurgle exited his mouth and his shoulders had a final spasm. Even when his soul vanished, Shawn kneeled and gnawed on the remnants of his neck with a putrid mouth full of black, thick drool and bile.

"Shawn, no!" Hershel hollered, reaching towards Shawn. "He's your brother! Don't do this! You have to remember!"

Kenny raised the pitchfork with both hands and impaled the nearest undead farmer through the head. The four blades delved deep into its cranium and the impact bulldozed it to the ground. Lee was static in his place, just taking aim and firing.

Lacey was surrounded by walkers. She backed up, but eventually her back touched the barn's wall. Kenny sliced his way toward her but more of them just kept coming. "Lacey, get outta here!"

Just as he finished his sentence, Lacey slid down the wall onto a sitting position. The nearest zombie, another farmhand, pierced the girl's stomach with its claws. Lacey howled like a wolf at a full moon as the zombie cleaved her tummy. Tens of walkers joined the buffet, spreading her guts and vital organs everywhere. The sassy teen was just now a meal consisting of meat sloppily devoured by unskilled butchers.

"Goddammit!" Kenny screamed.

Maggie, tears running down her cheeks and ruled by emotion, ran to the scene, gun in her trembling hand. Glenn tried to stop her by clutching her arm. "Maggie, don't!"

"Let go!" Maggie shouted, kneeing Glenn in the testicles to free herself from him. Glenn curled into a ball, clutching his genitalia and groaning in agonizing pain as he struggled to breathe.

Carley, T-Dog, Dale and Rick had already arrived with their weapons and distributed heavy fire. Failed shots splintered the wood but the other bullets sent the walkers into the void. Their collapsing bodies made it seem they were in a shooting range. Their numbers were thinning out quickly. Jimmy was the only one who had stayed in the platform, and had exited through the same way he'd entered. With his eyes red and puffy, he was given a shotgun but often missed or didn't shot because of the hiccups and tears.

Maggie bent near her dad, who was leaning on his knees. His visage was splattered with blood and his fingers twitched in strange patterns. "Daddy, you okay?!"

"Your gun." Hershel muttered as he grabbed Maggie's gun.

"Daddy?"

Hershel oscillated like a machine on its last legs. His spine was slightly hunched over like a senile elderly. His eyes were humid and his nose had drops of snot dangling off it. Hershel lifted the gun, dodged his gaze and shot Shawn in the head, spilling grey matter on the ground. "Sorry, Shawn!"

He proceeded to fire to an unknown zombie just as he fired towards Arnold's forehead to prevent him from reanimating, "Sorry, Arnold!"

Hershel, along with everybody else, stood among the scattered piles of zombies. They were all dead. "I'm sorry."

Hershel raised the gun and pushed the barrel against his temple. "I'm sorry."

"Hershel, no!" Rick shouted as he slapped the gun off his hand.

Hershel fell onto his knees, sobbing into his hands. "I'm sorry!"

Lee dropped his gun and pinched his nose bridge, admiring with disgust the bloody massacre. Turning his head to the left, he saw something that crushed his heart. Clementine was crying.

* * *

**A/N: Excuse me for the long delay. I've been busy with other projects and I was kinda stuck in this chapter.**


	35. The Living

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 35 – The Living**

Nobody dared to say a word. Those who dared to open their mouth at least choked on their words or were threatened by a vomit urging to come out. The only sound was Hershel's sobs as he was kneeling among the mass murders.

The barn's exterior walls had a few spoors of dark blood splattered here and there, like an unexperienced painter had been hired to paint them. The hay floor and the grass were soaked in a gooey and black substance, similar to oil. The empty dead shells known as walkers all laid down, their bodies pierced with bullet holes, their clothes torn apart and some of them with their guts and brains showing.

The smell was the worst. The gunpowder pairing in the air was reminiscent of a recently fought war and smelled like rusty metal. Within this odor there was the mix of disgusting death. The scent caused the survivors' stomachs to be engulfed in a fire, a flame that needed to be expelled, and most had to dodge away their nostrils.

Among the people that just waited for something to happen, tired, Lee was the first to act. Lee sheathed his gun and walked towards Clementine. He crouched to her height and clutched her in her arms. Carley watched him with a sad contortion. Lee returned her gaze with narrowed eyes, feeling Clementine's bawls on his shoulder.

* * *

The Greene family stood aligned, side by side, most of them leaning on each other as emotional support. Hershel had wanted to give his lost children a proper funeral, an homage to them. T-Dog, Kenny and Daryl dug three graves as fast as they could while a saddened Maggie had insisted on crafting three crosses, and even chiseling a name into each one.

Hershel, Maggie, Billy Greene, Beth, Otis, Patricia and Jimmy mourned in front of the graves. The dirt was fresh. The rest of the group maintained a certain distance, to give them the time and privacy they needed, but were still present in order to show their respects.

Hershel wiped a tear off his cheek as he looked at Rick. "You were right."

Rick didn't say anything. In his furry beard laid two curved lips. It was the anguished realization that what he had told Hershel about the danger was true. Oh, how he hated when he was right.

* * *

The smell of the dead bodies was now a plague stretching through the farm, and that was the motivation they had when they volunteered to clean up the mess. The task was simple, to haul the cadavers onto the back of a pick-up truck, then drive them into the woods and scorch them.

The Greene's weren't in any condition to do the dirty work, but those on Grimes' group were doing it. They were careful, they used gloves since they had to carry the bodies onto the truck with their bare hands. Due to the incident on the CDC, they knew for sure that the infection was spread through scratches and bites, but who was to say that the disease couldn't be transmitted if they got, for example, some of the walkers' blood on their mouth? Or exchanged fluids through an open wound?

Lee covered his nose and grunted as he selected one of the zombies. He picked a thin guy, with a moustache and a mechanic suit. He saw flies hovering above its head, and even two or three larvae crawling up its arm. Funny how insect life was prospering while mankind was slowly dying.

Lee grabbed the ankles of the same zombie. "Kenny, come give me a hand!"

Kenny obeyed, tiptoeing past the bodies and avoiding tripping on one of them. He grabbed the cadaver's wrists and with coordinated movements, they loaded it onto the rear enclosure. Kenny avoided the whiff. "Geez…"

"Not easy to look at." Lee said.

"At least we did what was necessary." Kenny commented, just as Carley and T-Dog arrived with a body. The two men stepped aside and let them throw the body to the enclosure.

"I can't believe how much you lack empathy." Lee said with a regard of disdain. "Hershel lost three of his kin."

"All I know is we're safer now, my family is safer now." Kenny said as he departed to fetch another body.

T-Dog followed after him, to help him. Lee was about to pinch his nose bride but halted when he recalled that his gloves were grimed in dead flesh and mud. Carley stayed with Lee and laid her hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?" She asked. "You seemed kinda shellshocked back there."

"It's just…Clementine." Lee sighed. "She's seen one too many people dying. I'm worried this world might break her."

"I can talk to her, if you need to."

Lee shook his head. "No. I think this time I'm the one who needs to speak to her."

* * *

It's a new dawn, it's a new day.

Just before daylight appeared above the curvature of the earth, Hershel's eyes were already wide open.

He hadn't gotten any sleep that night. He drowsed off for twenty minutes here or there, but was always woken up by nightmares, flashbacks scarred onto his memory. He woke up drenched in sweat, almost looked like someone had dumped a bucket of water on him.

He had chills throughout his body. He couldn't decide if he was whether cold or warm. All he felt was this crushing uneasiness. He tossed around, tried every position possible to sleep, lowered his blankets to his knee height, lifted his blankets to his chin height, but he was always uncomfortable.

It seemed like an anvil trampled on his chest. His torso felt compressed, his breathing was heavy and a latent pain sawed his heart. At one point, it seemed like he was haunted. His ears were so attentive and tuned that he could hear the sound of his own organs functioning. He flinched at every sound of a plank creaking or a wind that blew by. He could even swear he heard voices in that profound silence.

Hershel sat in the bed in his room. He scratched his head and wiped his forehead. His heart was split in half by an invisible dagger. He needed refuge. He needed something that would end that excruciating pain!

He got up. _Of course, _he thought. He headed towards the chest of drawers and opened the first one. He rummaged through his clothes until he found a small flask, half-full of whisky. _Darn. This isn't enough to get drunk of my arse._

He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he could avoid it. He slid the flask onto his pocket, before he waltzed out the door. His destination, the horse stables.

* * *

Rick yawned and sat on the bed, stretching his arms out. The bright daylight had woken him up, but it was a nice wake-up. Before the apocalypse, every wake-up was torture, but in those conditions, with no ruts or restrictions, it was a pleasuring thing.

Rick saw Lori sit on the side of the bed, covering her mouth with her hand. "Morning, hon'. You sleep okay? I gotta say, this bed is really doing wonders for me. Even with the three of us squeezing into it, I'm sleeping better than I—uh, are you okay?"

"No." Lori said, her eyes tearful and bobbing out. "It's morning sickness. It's coming full force at me today, and I don't-"

In a sudden movement, Lori leaped onto her feet and dashed towards the bathroom, vanishing inside. Rick could hear the nauseating sounds of her vomiting. He chuckled, it was the joy of parenting repeating itself again.

"Mom throwing up again?" Carl asked, still in a sleeping position with his eyes closed. ~

"Yep."

"Oh."

Rick looked to his side, where was situated a window. He had a plain sight of the entire farm, and he could see that the residents were also waking up. Katjaa was making breakfast on a camping stove, while others chatted or stretched their legs.

Rick got up as he heard a knock on the door. He slid out of the sheets and opened the door. He'd forgotten about the fact that he was in his underpants, but he was unsure if anybody cared anymore. Glenn was standing outside, barefoot, straggling to dress his t-shirt.

"Dammit, Glenn, what's got you so worked up?"

Glenn managed to slither his head through the upper hole on his t-shirt. "Dude, it's Hershel!"

"What?"

"Maggie woke me up and told me Hershel isn't in the farm! She checked his bedroom and the whole farm, but we can't find him and nobody's seen him!"

"Shit! Where the hell could he go?!"

"Maggie said he used to have a drinking habit, but he quit. She says maybe he went down to the local bar because of, uh…Arnold and Lacey."

"Look, I'll go with you." Rick said. "Gimme a minute to dress up. Go find Lee and tell him to meet us by the RV."

Glenn nodded and departed as Rick shut the door. Lori came out of the bathroom. "What did Glenn want?"

"It's Hershel." Rick sputtered as he dressed his pants in a hurry and then checked the drum on his revolver. "He's missing and I gotta go help find him."

Lori was opening her mouth to speak but Rick stamped her a kiss on her lips before she could talk. "I know, don't worry, I'll be back. I always do."

He hurried to the bed and kissed his son on the temple. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Be safe." Carl said with a drowsy voice.

* * *

Rick, Lee and Glenn stood in front of a pick-up Maggie had given them the blessing to use in their search. It was the same that was used to transport the corpses, so the smell was still present. The bodies had been dumped in the forest the day before, and today they were gonna burn them.

Glenn loaded the shotgun with a few shells, but he didn't have enough for a full reload. He'd only fire a shotgun a few select times and wasn't a master of it, most of the time the recoil caused his shots to be off-target. But he needed to be armed.

"Thank you so much for doing this." Maggie said. "I'm worried sick about my dad."

"We'll get him back. I promise." Rick assured.

Carley smothered Lee in her arms and kissed him on the cheek. "Be back in one piece, okay?"

"Of course. Don't worry about me." Lee asserted.

Maggie hugged Glenn before Glenn headed towards the passenger seat. Lee and Carley detached from their embrace as Rick slithered onto the driving seat. Lee climbed onto the enclosure, shut the rear door, and sat as the truck roared to life and drove away.

* * *

"Dale, you in here?" Andrea asked, entering the RV.

Dale was sitting in the seating in front of the table. "Yeah. I just wanted to clean up a little. Remember when this was our place, before everyone else started sleeping in here? That was nice. I don't think I'm ever going to get the smell out of it. I think it's seeped into the walls. This place is a wreck. Erma would be in a fit if she saw this."

Andrea cleared her throat and faked a cough. Dale frowned as he acknowledged his mistake. "I'm sorry. I know you don't like when I mention her."

"No. She was your wife. I understand. It's just that it reminds me that she's always in your mind, and I-"

Dale got up, cutting her off mid-sentence. Dale wrapped his arms around her. "Don't think about it that way, Andrea. I was married to Erma for nearly forty years. You can't just be jealous of my memories."

"I know, Dale…I know."

Dale caressed her cheek. "I love you Andrea, I really do. I swear."

* * *

Rick switched the vehicle off when he spotted the bar. He parked the truck on the side of the road, while the three men inspected the buildings surrounding them. The small town was like any other, deserted, most houses and stores boarded up from the inside. Graffiti adorned the walls, but due to the town being so small, car wrecks were rare. The roads were clear.

The bar had a sign hanging high above the front façade. It had the image of a cowboy brandishing a knotted rope while riding a bull and titled the establishment as 'Hatlin's Bar.' The construction had been renewed not long ago, but the wooden structure reminded them of old bars were shootouts took place, back in the era of the Old Wild West.

Rick, Glenn and Lee hopped out of the vehicle, creeping up to the front doors. They were broad doors and had a glass window that wasn't transparent. Rick opened the door with his shoulder and Lee and Glenn entered with their guns brandished, scoping out the edifice for any walkers. No threats. But right as rain, Hershel was sitting in a stool in front of the counter, a glass of whisky in his hands. The three men lowered their weapons and Glenn shut the door.

The bar's interior matched the outside. The Western-theme was everywhere. The walls decorated with flags, replicas of peacemakers, rifles and photos of endeared members and staff. The tables and chairs had an obsolete aspect. A counter and rows of stools spanned across the northern and eastern walls. The shelves behind the counter was full of bottles that had an impressive variety.

"Hershel." Rick clept.

"Who's with you?" The old man asked with his bulky voice.

"Lee. Glenn."

Rick walked up to Hershel and leaned on the counter beside him. "How many have you had?"

"Not enough."

"Let's finish this up back at home. Your family needs you."

"No. My boys…what they needed was their mother. But she's been gone for a long while now. Shawn…when he died, I told them a lie instead of letting them mourn like they should've. I robbed them of that. I see that now."

"You thought there was a cure. Can't blame yourself for holding out hope." Lee said.

"Hope?" Hershel chuckled like it was a joke, while toying with his glass as the turned his silver expression towards Rick. "When I first saw you run across my field with your boy in your arms, I had little hope he'd survive."

"But he did."

"He did. That was the miracle that proved to me that miracles do exist. Only it was a sham, bait and switch."

Hershel refilled his glass. Rick walked up to Lee and Glenn, the three of them forming a circle. "So what do we do? Just wait for him to pass out?"

"Just go!" Hershel shouted. "Just go!"

Rick returned to Hershel. "We promised Maggie to bring you home safe. What's your plan? Finish that bottle? Drink yourself to death and leave your boys alone?"

Hershel got up in a sudden move and advanced towards Rick. "Stop telling me how to care for my family, my farm. All I ask is to be left alone! Go back! Go back to safety. You're their leader, aren't you?!"

"I'm here now, aren't I?" Rick asked. The two men were now extremely close to each other, staring into each other's glares.

Hershel stayed silent as he returned to his stool. "Yes. Yes. Yes you are."

Rick grabbed his shoulder. "Now c'mon. Those girls need you now more than ever."

Hershel swayed his arm back to avoid Rick's hand. "I didn't want to believe you. You told me there was no cure. You told me these people were dead, not sick. I chose not to believe that. When I saw Shawn kill Arnold, with no memory that they were brothers, I realized what an ass I'd been! That I was feeding a rotten corpse! That's when I knew there was no hope. Right? There is no hope. And I think you all know it too."

Lee stepped forward. "No. There is always hope. Always. It's our own choice to let it die or not. I'm still hopeful, even with all the shit we've been through. I still believe we'll find a safe place, that we'll be able to create a new world, even in all this mess."

"You don't understand, Lee. There is no hope. For any of us."

"Look, I'm not doing this anymore." Rick said. "Know what the truth is? Nothing's changed. Death is death. It's always been there. Whether it's from a heart attack, cancer, or a walker. What's the difference? You didn't think it was hopeless before, did you? Now there are people back at home trying to hang on, they need us. Even if it's just to give them a reason to go on. Even if we don't believe it ourselves. You—you know what? This isn't about what we believe in anymore. It's about them."

Hershel was silent. His hollowed eyes showed that he was beginning to see it. Seeing everything in a new light. Those words got to him and he finally saw reason. He raised his empty glass, and banged it on the table. Rick smirked. "Good."

Suddenly, the door opened with a creak. The four people sprang around towards the door, only to see two men standing there with guns slinging from their backs.

"Son of a bitch." The man on the right said. "They're alive."

Lee, Rick and Glenn readied their guns but didn't point them at the two strangers. The guy on the right simpered as he heard all of those guns cocking. "Whoa, chill! We don't mean no harm."

"Yeah. We've heard that one too many times now." Lee said.

"Hey, if we wanted to blast on you, don't you think we would've been more discreet instead of waltzing through the front door?"

Lee and Rick exchanged a look. The man walked to one of the tables and sat down on a chair. The man on the left sat in one of the stools, a bit far away from Hershel. He grabbed a dusty cup, blew away the dust and then looked towards them. "This bar belong to you?"

The three men began to lower their guns a little bit. "No." Rick said. "We're just passing by."

"Well, see, me and my friend over there are kinda wanting to get wasted. Mind passing me that bottle over there?"

The man jabbed his finger towards a vodka bottle on the shelves. Glenn grabbed it and gave it to the man. The man unscrewed the lid and poured himself a full glass. "I'm Dave. That scrawny-looking douchebag over there is Tony."

It was obviously a sarcastic comment, since Tony was quite obese. "Eat me, Dave."

"Hey, maybe someday I will." Dave joked, drinking from his cup. "You guys want some?"

Everyone shook their heads. "Hey, your loss."

Something about these two strangers showed that they weren't locals. It was probably their heavy accent, which was typical amongst southern folk. It was bizarre to have such a calm encounter with some random strangers. Lee wished that people could just get along like that. But he still was wary of those two men.

Dave had short, black hair and a beard that sprouted in his cheeks and around his mouth. In his manner of walking and speaking, he appeared to always be sure of himself. Rick couldn't tell if he was confident or arrogant. He was always grinning and snickering, causing his face to wrinkle. He was doing something to establish his presence, whether it was tapping his foot silently out of a nervous tick or snorting. Dave could be considered a smartass, always having an intelligent quip on the tip of his tongue.

Tony on the other hand, had the appearance of a mobster. He was obese, having to walk very slowly. His curly, sweaty hair was hidden by a green beret and had a thick beard camouflaging his thick lips. A shotgun was hanging from his back. He wore gold chains around his neck and a golden Rolex on his wrist, but his apathetic and careless figure made Lee conjecture that he had gotten those from a looted store instead of buying them out of his own money before the apocalypse.

"We met on I-95 coming outta Philly." Dave explained. "Damn shit show that was."

"I'm Glenn." Glenn said with a smile. "It's nice to meet some new people."

"Rick Grimes."

"Lee Everett."

Dave looked at Hershel. "How about you, pal? Want one?"

"No. I just quit."

"You've got a unique sense of timing, my friend." Dave grinned.

"His name's Hershel." Lee elucidated. "He lost a lot of people yesterday."

"I'm truly sorry to hear that. To better days and new friends. And to our dead. May they be in a better place."

Dave raised his cup and sipped. Dave was reaching into his belt, and Lee already felt his hand floating above his gun. Dave pulled out a Beretta 92FS, a semiautomatic pistol. He exhibited to the new people before putting it on the table. Lee removed his hand from his gun. "Not bad, uh? Got it off a cop."

"I'm a cop."

"This one was already dead."

"You fellas are a long way from Philadelphia."

"It feels like we're a long way from everywhere."

"Well, what drove you South?"

"Well, I can tell you it wasn't the weather. Few months ago, it was so hot I must've dropped thirty pounds of sweat just from being here. Thank God for winter. No, first it was D.C. Heard there might be some kind of refugee camp, but the roads were so jammed, we never even got close. We decided to get off the roads, into the sticks, keep hauling ass. Every group we came across had a new rumor about a way to get out of this thing."

"One guy told us there was the coast guard sitting down in the Gulf, sending ferries to the islands." Tony said.

"The latest was a rail yard in Montgomery running trains to the middle of the country. Kansas, Nebraska."

"Nebraska?" Lee repeated.

"Yeah. Low population, lots of guns." Tony said.

"Kinda makes sense." Glenn opinioned.

"Ever been to Nebraska, kid?" Dave inquired. "There's a reason they call 'em the flyover states. What about you guys?"

"Well, we ain't really got no set destination in mind." Rick said. "We're kinda hunkering down for the moment."

"You're probably doing the right thing. Ain't nothing but pipe dream after pipe dream out there. Yeah. It doesn't seem like you guys are hanging your hats in this place. You holed up somewhere else?"

"Not really."

"Those your cars out front?"

"Yeah. Why?" Glenn enquired.

"We're living in ours. Those look kinda empty, clean. Where's all your gear."

"We're with a larger group." Hershel said. "Out scouting, thought we could use a drink."

"A drink? Hershel, I thought you quit." Dave smiled. "Well, we're thinking of setting up around here. Is it—is it safe?"

"It can be, although I've killed a couple walkers coming here." Glenn said.

"Walkers? That you call them?"

"Yeah."

"That's good. I like that. I like that better than lamebrains. More succinct. So, uh…so what, you set up in the outskirts or something? That new development?"

"Trailer park or something?" Tony asked.

Tony got up and muddled towards the wall. He unbuckled his belt before he started to pee, making a sound of water dripping from a great height. They all glared at him in an awkward manner.

"You in a farm?" Dave asked before he began humming. "Old McDonald had a farm…you got a farm?"

Nobody answered.

"Is it safe?" Dave asked. "You got food, water?"

"You got cooze?" Tony asked. "Ain't had a piece in ass in weeks."

"Listen, I'm sorry. City kids, they got no tact, no disrespect. So, listen, Glenn…"

"We've said enough." Lee interrupted the conversation.

"Wait a minute, this farm, it sounds pretty sweet, it sounds sweet, don't it Tony?"

"Yeah, real sweet." Tony said as he finished his business and tightened his belt. "How about a little southern hospitality?"

"We got some buddies back in camp, been having a real hard time. I don't see why you can't make room for a few more. We can pool our resources, our manpower."

"Look, I'm sorry, that's not an option." Rick said.

"We never even ever said we had a farm." Lee remarked.

"You guys sure look you came from one." Dave smirked. "Where'd grandpa's overalls come from? Listen, I don't see why this can't be an option."

"We can't take in anymore." Rick said.

Dave had a nervous chuckle. "You guys are something else. I thought—I thought we were friends. We got people we gotta look out for too."

"We don't know anything about you."

"No, that's true. You don't know anything about us. You don't know what we had to go through out there, the things we've had to do. I bet you've had to do those same things yourself. Am I right? 'Cause ain't nobody's hands clean in what's left of this world. We're all the same. So, c'mon, let's, let's take a nice, friendly hayride to this farm and we'll get to know each other."

"That's not gonna happen."

"Rick, this is bullshit." Tony dissed.

"Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down! Don't ever tell me to calm down! I will shoot you three assholes in the head and take your damned farm!"

Lee whipped out his gun and put it next to Tony's head. Dave and Rick got up all of the sudden. Tony became static and looked right into Lee's eyes. Dave stretched his arms and tried to gently separate the two men. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, easy. Relax. Nobody's killing anybody. Nobody's shooting anybody. Am I right, Rick?"

Lee slowly lowered his gun but he saw Tony's fingers skidding towards his shotgun. Dave walked up to the counter and vaulted over it. "Look. We're just friends having a drink. Now, where's the good stuff, eh?"

Dave noticed Rick's blazing gaze set upon him, so he put his Beretta on the counter as a proof of non-hostility. Dave bent over and rummaged through the counter. Rick had his hand hovering above his Colt when Dave brought out a bottle of rum. "You gotta understand…we can't stay out there. You know how it's like."

"Yeah. I do. But the farm is too crowded as is, I'm sorry. You'll have to keep looking."

"Keep looking…where do you suggest we do that?"

"I hear Nebraska's just fine."

Dave laughed and waved his finger towards Rick. "Nebraska…this guy…"

Dave went silent. In a split second, everything changed. Dave's hand changed from the bottle of rum and reached for his pistol, but Rick drew faster from his sheriff days and fired a bullet right between Dave's eyes. The shot killed him instantly and a spatter of blood exploded on the mirror hung behind him.

Before Dave's body even hit the ground, Lee already had his gun against Tony's temple. "Don't move!"

Lee wasn't planning on killing him. He believed that murder was only valid in the most extreme of worst case scenarios, but right now Tony was scared shitless and didn't pose a threat.

Lee jumped backwards and shrunk his shoulders when Tony was shot clear through the forehead, spraying Lee's shirt. He fell against the counter and saw Tony's blobby body collapse against the wall, with his eyes rolled up into his skull. Lee looked to his side, and saw Rick with his gun flaunted in Tony's direction.

Lee panted as his heart was racing. He felt a sense of anger against Rick, and he had never seen someone get shot in such a merciless fashion before, and so close to him.

**A/N: What up my people? Here's Sheriff Wolf, bringing you another chapter. I would just like to thank all of you for your great support, right now I have hundreds of views, a lot of followers and the review amount is crazy! To be honest, looking back on my work I kinda think most of it is shit. So, genuinely, thanks for enjoying my shitty story.**

** Next chapter will bring a few beloved characters into the mix. Tune in to find out who it is!**


	36. Outcasts

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 36 – Outcasts**

Rick stood over the fat mobster's cadaver, barrel of his revolver smoking hot. He holstered the gun. Lee, Glenn and Hershel gathered around it, admiring the corpse with a phantasmagoric disgust. It was that moment after every kill, every brawl, in which Lee wondered if they weren't sinking into the long dead world.

"Holy shit…" Glenn mumbled.

Lee gave Rick a violent push on the shoulder. "What you do that for?! I had him covered!"

"They drew on us!" Rick said in a much calmer tone than Lee's. "Don't act like it wasn't justified."

"Hey, stop!" Hershel interrupted them. "Let's head back. I think we've overstayed here as it is."

Lee and Rick exchanged a glare before Lee walked off towards the windows. Rick squatted and picked up Tony's shotgun, then fished into his pocket and found two shells. Glenn circled around the counter to pick up Dave's handgun. Lee was lost in his thoughts just as a ray of light shone through the thin curtains, and he heard the unmistakable sound of wheels rolling through an asphalt pavement and a d-brake being pulled. "Guys, car, car!"

Lee crouched down in front of the wall, just as Glenn, Rick and Hershel hurtled towards the blanketed windows in a lowered position. They kept their ears open, and were more nervous to hear that the vehicle was stopping in front of the bar. They could hear the doors opening and closing and the engine dying down.

"Dave? Tony? They said over here?" A man spoke.

"Yeah, Nate. This is the place." Another one said.

"I'm telling you man, I heard shots." A third person spoke, a younger one, maybe a teen.

"I saw roamers two streets over. Might be more around here."

"Guys, this is dangerous!" A fourth guy spoke, also a teen. "We shouldn't be roaming around at night. Maybe they told us the wrong location."

"Our guys don't make mistakes, Ben." Nate whispered. "You're right though. This zone's hot. We gotta get outta here."

Lee saw the shadows of the four men walking outside wall. A loud tinkling noise echoed. "Shut up, man! You wanna attract 'em?"

After a few seconds, it was just silence. Rick peeked through the curtains. Nobody. Rick walked up to his fellow comrades. Glenn was as pale as a ghost. "Why won't they leave?!"

"Would you?" Rick asked.

"Nice going, Rick." Lee accused. "If we had at least kept Tony alive, we might've been able to make a trade!"

Rick sighed. "Maybe you're right, but what's done is done. Let's focus on present time, on how to get outta here. I propose we go out the back and make a run for the car."

They started to hobble their way back to the rear when gunfire tugged them back to the wall. Rick slid onto a standing position and peeped through the window again. He saw two unknown guys, one black and the other white, along with two teens who had highschool jackets. One of them had the name Ben sewed onto it, while the other was named Travis.

"What happened, Travis?" Nate asked.

"Roamers, I nailed 'em." Travis said. Rick noticed that he had a scoped rifle in his hands.

"They disappeared but their car's still here." The black guy said.

"Damn, where can they be?! Sean, I cleared those buildings, you guys got those?" Nate suggested.

Sean, Travis and Ben shook their heads. "We forgot about that one."

"Really?!" Nate complained, marching towards the bar, followed by his three comrades. "We're looking for Dave and Tony and nobody checks the damned bar?"

The four guys were now on the front porch, approaching. Glenn's forehead was dripping with sweat and his head was aching from the tension. He felt a lump in his throat and his heart began racing. He knew he had to do something to keep them from entering, something, but he couldn't think straight. He had to improvise.

Glenn slid through the floor and glued his back to the door. When Travis tried to open the door, Glenn's weight kept it shut. Glenn shut his eyes and crossed his fingers, hoping that he wouldn't mess up.

"What?!" Travis blurted out.

"Someone pushed it shut." Nate explained. "There's someone in there."

"Oh, man, let's just get the hell outta here." Ben pleaded.

"Ben, shut the fuck up, okay?" Nate said. "Hey, is there someone in there? Yo, if someone's in there, we don't want no trouble. We're just looking for our friends."

The men were now talking in whispers. "What do we do?"

"Bum-rush the door?" Sean proposed.

"No, we don't how many of them there are. Just relax. Travis, go up on that building, give us cover fire if necessary." Nate talked back to the people inside the bar. "We don't want no trouble. We're just looking for our friends. If something happened, tell us. This place is crawling with corpses. If you could help us not get killed, I'd appreciate it."

"Dude, you're bugging. There's nobody in there." Sean said.

"Somebody guard the door. If there's somebody in there, they might know where Dave and Tony are."

Lee saw Rick opening his mouth, but made a gesture to keep him quiet. "We don't know where your friends are!"

"Dude, somebody's in there." Sean said.

"Hey. You in there. Have you seen these two guys, Dave and Tony?"

"No!" Lee continued. "No, we haven't seen nobody. Just leave!"

More jumbled whispers. "Could…could we just have a look inside, real quick-"

"No!"

"Fuck, Dave and Tony must be in there, they oughta be in trouble." Sean mumbled.

"Calm down, guys. Just-" Ben intervened.

"We searched every damned building! Their car's parked 'round the corner and the bar's the only place we didn't check."

"Dude, let's go, let's go back, this is too damn dangerous…"

"No, no, I'm not leaving." Nate said. "I'm not going back and telling Jane that we couldn't find Dave and Tony. I'm just not."

Nate talked back. "If you assholes don't open this goddamned door, we'll start firing!"

"Guess we can forget about the element of surprise." Lee mumbled.

In a split second, Lee jumped onto his feet and fired through the glass towards the people. The glass shattered and Lee couldn't see if he was hitting them, but he didn't let go of the trigger. "Go! I'll cover you!"

Arrays of bullets began traversed the walls, allowing straws of light to pierce through. The gunfire deafened their hearing. Glenn crouched under a table while Hershel hid around the corner, while there were bottles, cups and water taps shattering behind them. Rick took cover behind the counter. He tried to fire back but was always forced to stay down. The only thing he could do was curl his body to prevent the fragments of glass to cut him.

There was a ceasefire. Pure silence. Rick, Glenn and Hershel got up and headed towards the back while Lee held their position out front. The trio came across a door which led them to a broad storage room, full of rusty lockers and racks containing more liquor and smelling like must. There were double doors in the parallel wall. Glenn kept his shotgun ready because the abundance of windows made him nervous.

He heard a clatter outside the door. Glenn halted dead on his tracks and kept as silent as he could, his senses concentrated on that door. He searched for the tiniest change. He saw the door handle being twisted but didn't see a silhouette through the windows. In an instinct, he fired towards the window, shattering it.

"Glenn! Glenn!" Lee shouted.

"I'm…I'm alright…I'm alright…" Glenn responded, his voice with the pitch of a strangled cat.

Rick lowered Glenn's shotgun just as Lee joined them. "I don't think they're coming through the front door."

"Okay, guys, here's what we'll do. Glenn, you're gonna try for the car."

"What?! Try?!"

"You'll try and you will succeed." Hershel boasted.

"That's a great plan." Glenn chuckled nervously.

Lee opened the back doors. He shot a glance in all directions and was greeted by a bullet that whizzed inches away from his head. He peeped outside and saw Sean sprinting towards Rick, firing bullets with little accuracy. Rick had him protected and fired a calculated shot that landed straight on his forehead.

Lee and Glenn jogged through the alley they found themselves in, but they ducked behind a dumpster when they heard tires screeching. They took a peek and saw Nate in front of the truck's steering wheel, ready to speed off. "Travis, get to the truck!"

Travis jumped off the roof, while Ben Paul waited for him on the ground level. Travis jumped but appeared to trip before doing so and he was now falling on a horizontal position, his screams acting as a dinner bell for any walkers nearby.

"Travis!" Ben screeched.

Lee felt phantom pain through his plexus shoulder when the kid, Travis it appeared, landed on his back on a dumpster, but worse, his leg was impaled through the spike of a barred fence. The kid continued howling with flinching terror in his voice.

"Sorry, I gotta go!" Nate shouted before driving away.

"Wait, no!" Ben hooted but couldn't stop him.

Lee sprinted towards the two teenagers. Ben was beside his friend, trying to find a way to help him with his hands trembling. Hershel and Rick verified that the coast was clear before meeting up with Glenn. "Where'd Lee go?!"

"He ran across to help those kids." Glenn said.

"Kid, stay back!" Lee warned.

Ben Paul had his back against the wall, his arms in the air like he was under a heist. Lee inspected Travis' leg. The wishbone-shaped spike had cut straight through the bone, most the lower part of his leg seemed like a loose hunk of meat. Rick, Hershel and Glenn made a silent race towards Lee.

"We have to go now!" Rick said.

Travis' cries intensified as he banged on the dumpster with his head out of anger. "Ssh!"

"No, no, don't leave me, please…"

"Please, just try to help him!" Ben Paul pleaded. "After that, you can leave us or whatever, I don't care, just please…"

"Lee, we gotta go, c'mon." Rick said, yanking Lee's arm.

"We can't!"

"He was just shooting at us!"

"He's a kid!"

"Please…help me…"

"This place is crawling with walkers!"

"We can't leave him!"

Hershel took a closer look at the wound. "The fence went clean through. There's no way we can get the leg off in one piece."

Hershel touched his leg gently, but just the minor contact made him wail. Rick clenched his fist. "Shut up or I will shoot you."

"That may be the answer." Hershel said, much to Lee's shock. "I don't want to leave him here, but there's no way were taking his leg off without tearing the muscle to shreds. He certainly can't run. He may bleed out. Maybe we should put him down. I don't wanna see any more killing, but this is cruel."

"What?!" Ben Paul gasped. "No, we can't kill him!"

Lee's eyes flicked in his orbits, trying to think of a solution. With Rick and Hershel agreeing to euthanize him, Glenn would probably be led astray with them. Lee had to save this suffering teenager. The shades of incoming walkers in the horizon were a timer that barked into his ear to hurry.

Lee grabbed Travis' leg with both hands and jerked it towards the sky, removing the limp from the spike. Travis' yell was louder than any gunshot Lee had ever heard.

* * *

It was a cloudy day. The sun was hidden high above and the land was shining from the silver light. Rick drove the truck, having his arm dangling out the window and his second hand manning the wheel. Glenn and Hershel were sitting on the rear seats, with Lee on the back with Ben and Travis, who were restrained.

They were rolling down the driveway leading them to the farm. They weren't far now.

Travis was obviously in a bad state. He was as hot as a furnace and his forehead drenched in sweat. Hershel had cauterized his wound with lit tinder to save him from blood loss. Sometimes, it seemed he was about to vomit all over himself. His eyes often whirled around randomly, sometimes he'd close his eyes, but Travis never passed out. He tried to resist the malady taking over him. Rick had taken the caution to cover their heads in bags.

"Are you going to kill us?!" Ben asked with urge, his voice muffled by the bag.

"No, we aren't." Lee said. "As long as you don't kill us."

"Look, we're sorry about what happened back there. Those guys were nuts. We didn't even liked being around them!"

"But you sure fired at us."

"Y-yeah…b-but…I d-didn't hit…on purpose…" Travis said.

"Just calm down. I promise we'll take care of you. Nothing bad will happen if you play ball."

Doug opened the gate for them to pass through. Rick halted the car once he'd parked the car in the middle of the front field. Doug dashed towards them. "Everything go okay?"

"We're alive and we got Hershel back." Rick said. "I'd say that's a victory."

"Cool. And who are those two teens?"

Rick looked at Lee who helped Ben and Travis getting out of the truck. "They were part of a group that attacked us. They're making a temporary visit."

Maggie and Beth, along with Billy Greene came running and hugged their father. After Hershel explained them what happened, they lugged Travis into the house to fix his injury. Rick stayed with Ben since he wanted to question him. Carley and Clementine appeared to greet Lee. "You're back!"

"Like always, right?" Lee said, patting her on the shoulder. "Listen, there was this group that attacked us. And we got these two kids that might be joining us."

"What? Are you sure that they aren't harmful to the group?" Carley inquired.

"I'm not sure about the Travis guy over there, but Ben seems a pretty nervous kid. Rick wants to ask him a few questions. I think I should go help him, make sure he doesn't go overboard."

* * *

Ben slumped against the wall of the barn, shackled alongside Travis, whose leg had been bandaged and taken care of. He couldn't walk for sure, and it would take him at least a long time until he could limp. For now, he had to use a long stick to get around. Lee and Rick sat in two haystacks in front of the two young boys.

"Let's get right to the chase." Rick said. "Just who the fuck are you? Who were Dave and Tony?"

"Dave? Tony? I mean, we saw them around camp, but we didn't really know them." Ben Paul said.

"How'd they know that we had a farm? Do they know where we are?" Lee demanded.

"We don't know! They usually sent out scouts to look for places to loot. Maybe they stumbled across this farm or something."

"How many of you are there?" Rick asked.

"Uh…about…thirty." Travis said.

Lee scrubbed his nose bridge and took a deep breath. "That's a little higher than the amount of fighters we got in our group."

"Where are they located?" Rick asked.

"Off the highway. I can't point you the way 'cause I don't know where we are." Ben Paul said. "Listen, I know we kinda fucked up back there, but we're sorry! Those guys, they were…they were rapists, murderers! We're not like them! We…we can help you fight them off, if they attack."

Travis whispered to Ben in an angered tone. "Shut up, Ben. My dad was Special Forces, I know what I'm doing."

"I think that's all we need to know." Rick said. "Lee, let's step outside."

Lee and Rick got up, before they exited the barn and pushed the door shut. Lee scratched his head. "What do you think we do with them?"

"We can't have them around."

"What?!"

"I thought that we could keep 'em alive, but those assholes, they left these two teens behind. I thought we could use them as leverage in case of an attack, but now I see that to them, they're worthless."

"That is not a validation for murder!"

"I-I'm sorry. That came out wrong. What I mean is, we can't keep them in the farm."

"Why?"

"They're two extra mouths to feed, Travis can't even get up on his feet without a crutch and who knows if they aren't biding for an opportunity to jump us!"

"We should settle this how it should be. We ask everybody's opinion."

* * *

The living room in Hershel's house was now stuffed by the massive crowd. The word had been passed around and everyone knew what was going on, now Lee was just explaining why they were gathered there and why they had to vote. The kids were outside, trying to keep their cheerfulness in such dark ages.

"We couldn't just have left him back there." Lee said. "He would've bled out."

"I repaired his calf muscle as best I can, but he'll have nerve damage. He won't be on his feet for at least a week." Hershel announced.

"I believe that once he's healed, we should give him a canteen, food, and send them on their way." Rick said.

"Isn't that the same as leaving them for the walkers?" Andrea enquired.

"He'll have a fighting chance. Most people nowadays don't get that."

"I think that we should have them around." Lee said. "They don't seem to be able to fend off for themselves all too well."

"Lee's right, who knows? They might be assets." Carley agreed.

"Just gonna let him go?" Kenny spoke. "He knows where we are."

"He was blindfolded the whole way here." Rick said. "He's not a threat."

"Not a threat?! Rick, how many of them were there? You killed three of their men, took two hostages, but they ain't just gonna come looking?"

"They left 'em for dead! They won't come looking."

"We still oughta keep our eyes peeled." T-Dog said.

"Listen, Rick and I want to make a vote. To decide on whether to send 'em off packing or keep them in the farm. We shouldn't waste time arguing. Whoever votes to send them away, raise your hand."

There were a few seconds of reluctance from the group, until Daryl and Larry raised their hands. Lilly followed in her father's footsteps. Lee waited for a while longer, making sure everyone had made their choice.

"We'll never be truly safe if we keep having strangers in our group." Larry said.

"Then I suppose it's settled." Lee said, giving Rick a respectful glare. "Ben and Travis will stay with us."

* * *

Five-year-old Billy wondered where could his twin brother Ben be. Billy knew that the adults were talking about grown-up business inside the house, so he couldn't be inside. Billy conjectured that he might've ambled away from the farm into the nearby woods to play, which was something he had been doing often in the past few days.

It was in moments like these in which Billy remembered how his parents were no longer with him.

Billy headed towards the forest. The lanky trees hid the light and made the forest a gloomy place. Billy flinched as a band of crows flew by, startling him. It almost seemed as if the forest was acknowledging his presence, warning him to flee. Maybe it was only his imagination. Maybe it was not.

Billy stopped when he saw his brother in the distance. He was on his knees, interacting with something, but he wasn't quite sure what. Billy advanced, until he was towering behind Ben. Billy gasped when he saw his brother feeding a dead rat to a legless walker.

The zombie was barely hanging. Its legs were missing, leaving a trail of oily blood and darkened guts behind it. Its rib cage was visible due to the lack of flesh on its body, and the walker could only move its jaws. Ben was lowering a rat onto its mouth using the rat's tail. The walker took a bite, chopping the mouse in two and creating a squirt of blood.

Ben looked back at Billy with buggy eyes. "You can't tell this to the others."

"But…Ben…it's one of those dead monsters!"

"No! He's…he's alive. They're not monsters! They're people. Mommy is alive right now. She isn't with us, but she's alive."

Billy slowed backed away. "Billy…I meant it. You can't tell this to the others."

* * *

**A/N: I would just like to point out that the Nate and Jane seen earlier in this chapter are NOT the same game characters. The bar firefight is originally longer, but I thought that in the TV Show it was too dragged out (kinda like the entire season), so I shortened it. Also, EpicHoboChuck has created a really awesome forum about The Walking Dead, and I would seriously recommend you guys to check it out. It's entitled "The Official Walking Dead forum."**


	37. The Evil Within

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 37 – The Evil Within**

The most minimal noise can attract a walker. Even if it's a distant scrap of a sound, a walker will follow it nonstop. All it took was one walker to hear the gunshots caused at the barn to create a horde the likes the survivors had never seen. One walker hears the noise, follows it, and then others see it tracking down a prey so they join the party. Tens become dozens. A dozen becomes fifty.

The horde heading for Hershel's farm was making its way towards the hundreds. And nobody had a clue of how they were all sitting ducks.

Lilly was glad that she and Daryl were almost done with the last corpses, remnants of the barn massacre. A pile of kindling, branches and logs was stacked in a clearing in the woods, and on top of it laid the dozens of putrid cadavers. The smell pierced her nostrils and forced to hold her breath, though Daryl didn't seem much bothered.

Daryl grabbed the ankles of one of the bodies that was on the back of the pick-up truck. Lilly helped him by gripping its wrists, and together they hauled it onto the pyre. "I never got a chance to thank you about saving me back there. I owe you one."

Daryl snorted. "If you hadn't taken my bike, I wouldn't have chased after ya."

"I doubt it."

"Then, think again."

"Just know that you saved my dad and me. And I appreciate it."

They tossed the body like it was a dirty rag. Only one more to go. "Why'd you agree to send the two kids off packing?"

"Look, I know how dangerous it is out there, but I also know that we'll never be safe if we keep bringing people in. My dad doesn't need any more stress. He's really liking it here at the farm. And I know that they would've probably died out there, but my dad's the only thing I have left."

Daryl spat onto the ground as he and Lilly carted the final corpse. "Please. Those kids would've been fine if they wanted to. One time, when I was twelve, I got lost in the woods. Merle was in juvie back then and my dad was partying with some waitress, so nobody even noticed I was gone. I was lost for nine full days, eating wild berries, wiping my ass with poison oak. When I finally found my house again, I entered through the back door and made myself a sandwich. I had a damned rash in my ass for weeks. Couldn't sit straight."

Lilly grinned. "That's a funny story."

"Yeah, wasn't so funny when it happened."

Daryl and Lilly stopped for a second, panting, as the last body had been thrown onto the tinder. Daryl picked up a stick and wrapped a shirt around it. Lilly passed him a jerry can and Daryl soaked the tissue in gasoline. He fished his lighter and lit the torch, thrusting it onto the bonfire. The flames spread quickly, burning the zombies' dead flesh and their torn clothes. In the smoke fumigated the typical stench of death. The crisping of sparks reminisced of barbecues and beers with good friends. In that moment, they forgot about things for a while.

With no understandable reason, Daryl and Lilly stood there for a moment, admiring the flames.

* * *

Hershel grabbed the flask he had in his pocket. It still had a few drops in it, not too much, but again, that scotch was about as old as him and could knock out an unexperienced drinker with a gulp. Hershel put the flask back in his drawer and shut it, never to open it again.

Hershel wasn't particularly joyous, but he felt more rigorous, like his will had been strengthened. His faith was stronger and everything seemed cleared now. Hershel headed towards Maggie's room. Rick was right about one thing back at the bar. It was his duty to look after his family. It's what his deceased wife would've wanted.

* * *

Glenn sat in Maggie's bed, with her beside him. Glenn had his eyes fixated on the ground, while Maggie held his hand. Glenn had this bizarre nausea in his stomach, every time he recalled how those bullets whirred so near his head. All of it could've been over in an instant. And what would he leave behind? Questions stormed his mind and he seemed mentally stuck in that instance.

"Are you okay, Glenn?"

"Yeah…I mean, sort of…I froze back there…just…I could've died. In the blink of an eye, and…I don't know. I…"

Maggie caressed his cheek. Glenn focused on that tender sensation of human touch. Glenn was brought back to that moment in which he cowered behind the dumpster when Sean fired towards him. He remembered how he thought of Maggie. How if Rick didn't have him covered, he could be rotting away and limping in the streets right now.

He raised his head and neared his lips towards Maggie's, until they came into contact. Maggie touched his few hairs of beard sprouting out of his jawline while he comforted himself with her sweet taste.

Just then, Hershel came through the door. "Maggie, I-"

Maggie and Glenn separated and jolted in their seating. Hershel had an expression of discontent in his visage. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, sir! I—uh, I didn't really want—your daughter and I—we—I'm sorry!"

"Not yet you aren't! And you!" Hershel beamed his finger towards Maggie. "Lacey, Arnold and Shawn haven't been in the ground for twenty-four hours and you're doing this?"

"Glenn and I are in love, daddy!" Maggie exclaimed. "I wanted to tell you before but I just couldn't! We love each other! I'm nineteen, I'm old enough to do whatever I want!"

Hershel kept silent as he eyed Glenn and Maggie. He simply waltzed out of the room with steam coming out of his ears.

* * *

Lee opened the barn door, accompanied by Billy Greene. The youngster had a hand dug in his pocket and the other one supporting the toothpick he was chewing. A wave of light invaded the barn, making the two teenagers wince as they adapted to the light. Lee could see the clouds of thin dust swiveling in the air.

"Hi, guys." Lee said. "The verdict's been made. You'll be staying with us."

Ben sighed in relief. "R-really?"

"Yeah. Guys, this here is Billy." Lee introduced the teenager. "He needs help collecting corn from his crops and loading crates onto a truck."

"Oh, c'mon!" Travis complained. "We're not gonna be slaves!"

Lee glared at him. "Look, I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing this for you. Not everyone in the camp thinks you're trustworthy. If you help around, show a good ambiance, the others will see how you can be helpful and be more welcoming."

"It's not that hard of a task." Billy Greene explained. "Even with your wound, Travis, I'm sure you'll handle it."

"Yeah, we'll do it!" Ben Paul said.

"I'm gonna trust you for now and remove your shackles." Lee said, as he kneeled before the teens and used a key to unlock their shackles. "Don't make me regret this."

"We'll behave, I promise."

"We have dozens of people around camp. So don't mess around."

Lee got up and saw as Billy Greene led Ben Paul and Travis out. Travis could set his foot on the ground and mostly relied on his cane. They had to walk on a slower rhythm so that Travis could catch up.

Lee walked outside just as a voice was heard beside him. "A mystery!"

Lee looked to his side only to see Duck, with his hands on his hips like a glorious superhero and a goofy smirk on his face. "Jesus, Duck!"

"I'm sorry. I heard you guys talking." Duck said in an innocent voice, his smile fading.

"You need to un-hear all of that." Lee replied, walking away but Duck jogged after him.

"Can I help?"

Lee turned around to Duck again. "What did I just say?"

"You're the greatest detective and I can be Dick Grayson. Your ward!"

Lee looked at him with a blank gaze. "That's Robin."

"I know who it is! Look, I don't know what're you talking about. I don't need help!"

"I could totally spy on those two kids to see if they're the culprits! Then I'll come back and give you a full report! I promise I won't get caught by them!"

"Has your mother even told you what happened?"

"Not really."

"Look, you can't help. And if you do it, there will be trouble."

Duck backed away slowly with a gleam. "Secrecy…"

"Did you hear what I just said? About the part of not telling anyone?"

Duck kept recoiling backwards. "I will live in the shadows…"

Duck then sprinted off happily. Lee shook his head in exasperation. Lee looked in the distance and spotted the RV, in which he believed Clementine was in. Maybe it was time to have that talk.

* * *

Lee entered the RV and he quickly found Clementine sitting by the table that was nailed to the floor, whispering into her walkie-talkie. Lee frowned, it had been a while since he'd seen her do this. "Hi, Clem."

"Hi, Lee." Clem greeted, setting down her radio.

"You still talk with that old thing?" Lee asked, sitting in front of her.

"Yeah. I like to pretend I talk to my parents with it." Clementine said. Her voice was hushed, and her head was anchored low. She appeared to make an effort to shake away a thought, before fishing out of her pocket a deck of cards. "Dale had these cards laying around. Wanna play?"

"Sure. Which game do you wanna play?"

"I only know how to play Go Fish."

Lee gave her four cards and then selected other four cards for himself. "How have you been?"

Clementine shrugged. "Okay I guess. Got any fives?"

Lee inspected his cards. A jack, a queen, a five and a second five. Lee gave her the two cards. Lucky guess, he presumed. "How are you feeling about Arnold and Lacey?"

Clementine hesitated. "I don't want to see anyone else die."

"I wish it could be like that, sweet pea. The truth is, a lot of people will die, Clementine. I don't want to lie to you. And this world, it will always keep pushing you to do horrible things, to change. But you must never get dragged away. Never change. Okay?"

"I guess."

"Good. I love...I worry about you Clementine. And you can come talk to me whenever you need to, okay? Got any nines?"

"No. Go fish."

Lee complied as he slid a card for himself. The two played for a long time, chatting casually and inquiring each other about a certain card. Lee wasn't sure what effect his words had on Clementine, she always had that mystery. He knew she was a tough kid, but that world was enough to tear down the strongest of people. He'd seen it happen too many times.

* * *

Travis, Ben Paul and Billy Greene were surrounded by a maze of corn, just lengthy crops erecting higher than them. Travis had never been a big fan of the countryside. There was always a bee or a fly hovering above him, and his face was always being scratched by the sharp and lengthy leaves of the crops.

Travis and Ben had a simple task. Travis just harvested the corn and then threw it onto a crate, then Ben carried that crate to the truck since he was more in a fit shape. They were glad to be alive at least, there were worst fates in the world.

"Jesus…what're we gonna do?" Travis said.

"What do you mean?" Ben asked.

"Do you think we should stay here?"

"Well, yeah. I don't wanna go back. These guys, they seem nice."

"Still, we oughta keep our guard up."

"Yeah, well I'm not going back. Not to Nate. Not to those sickos."

"I know. I'm just saying that we don't know these people. We just gotta be careful is all. And if worst comes to worst, we can make it on our own."

"Are you crazy? We'll never make it out there."

"Dude, I did a bunch of survival trainings back in the day, I even survived forty-eight hours alone in the wilderness. My dad…"

"…was Special Forces, yeah, I know."

Ben lowered to grab a fallen corn when he detected something moving out the corner of his eye. He snapped his head to the side but didn't see anyone. A question mark popped into his head, but he was sure he'd seen something dashing across his field of view. "I think I saw someone around the corner of the house."

"They have a lot of people around camp. Just somebody passing by."

* * *

Lee froze when he heard a knock on the camper's window. He looked, only to see that there was nobody there. Clementine rose an eyebrow. "Who did that?"

"I don't know. I'll be right back." Lee said.

He got up and set down his hand of cards. He headed towards the door and opened it, stepping outside. A quick glance in all directions revealed nothing, only the rest of the group moseying about. When he looked past the corner of the RV though, he spotted Duck with a grin on his face.

"Duck!" Lee reprehended, folding his arms.

"The investigation has been concluded!" Duck said.

"I told you couldn't help!"

"I'm curious!"

"You don't say."

"But I went on ahead and I spied on the culprits!"

Lee sighed. "And what'd they say?"

"They seemed afraid of someone. I dunno why. And that guy's dad is Special Forces. They talked about someone called Nate."

Lee had a flashback of what happened at the bar. He recalled that name. "Anything else?"

"I think they mumbled something about not wanting to leave. And that they'd help us if they could."

Lee smiled mentally. "Alright, Duck, you did good. I think you've done enough for now."

"I also checked the barn. I was combing the scene for clues and…"

"Yeah, I get you."

Duck raised his hand with his fingers sticking out. Lee looked at him for a few seconds, before giving him a high-five. "Awesome!"

Lee let Duck sprint off into the distance. He shook his head, wondering why he couldn't just play with the other kids his age, before he returned to the camper to finish that game with Clementine. The game lasted about one extra half-hour, and Clementine didn't wish to play a second game. Lee then left her with her thoughts. Lee sensed that maybe Clementine had enjoyed their little time together. He'd certainly spent too much time absent, doing what needed to be done.

Lee left the camper just when he saw Carley awaiting him. "Oh. Hey, Carley."

"Did you talk to Clementine?" She asked.

"Yeah. I just hope she'll get past this." Lee said, scratching his head.

Carley approached Lee and saw that he had a bruise on his cheek. Carley inspected it by touching it. "Well, I think you did well. Like always. She's strong, Lee, and you're the best care-taker I've ever seen."

Lee lowered his head. "Maybe you're right."

"I'm always right."

"You've been pushing yourself too hard. You need a break."

In a natural gesture, Lee's fingers laced with Carley's, and the couple walked handed-held through the outskirts of the farm. The winter season made the days shorter, and halfway through the afternoon, an orange sun shone in the distance, painting the clouds in a tangerine glow. Undeniably beautiful.

Lee and Carley stopped once they strolled past the barn, leaning on the fence enclosing the farm, admiring the view. Lee focused on the sound of the birds chipping, of the wind blowing, of a rustle in the forest. But as if it had already become an instinct, his worries about whether or not their survival was in jeopardy or not came back to him, striking him in the face like a punch.

"I'm not sure if we're safe here in the farm."

"What do you mean?"

"The group those teens were with, I think they know where we are."

Carley's jaw dropped. "H-how?"

"I don't know. But they fired at us back at the bar. And Ben told me his group had at least thirty people. I think maybe we'll need to relocate."

"We'll have to talk to Hershel about this. I'm sure he'll come to a reasonable decision. And if worse comes to worse, it's not like our group is small."

Lee was silent for a moment, before a smirk stamped on his face. "You're small."

Carley punched him in the arm. Their gazes locked. "I just want you and Clementine to be safe."

There wasn't another word spoken. There was no need to. Whether it was by fate or an invisible gravitational force called love, their lips neared to each other's in almost imperceptible movements. In their proximity, Lee could notice little things he'd never seen before; her swan- like neck and a tiny mole she had in her ear. Their eyelids shuttered with subtlety as their arms wrapped one another with slithering motions. They couldn't avoid their noses bumping into each other until the kiss arrived.

Both of them smelled horribly of a mixture of dirt and rotten flesh but they didn't mind. Lee's heart was at a moderate pace however it was beating with the intensity of a F1 car engine. Lee could even hear his heart's sharp pulses in his auricles. Carley felt her body with warmth, running up her solar plexus and through her midsection. Her hands slid towards his face while Lee tugged her closer to him, until both their chests were in contact with each other.

Lee and Carley detached their lips as they flavored its sweetness, a moan escaping Carley's mouth. Lee snapped back to the real world when a noise reached their ears. One that at first was jumbled like a radio station full of static, but then it became clear, and all too familiar. With a sense of dread escalating their spines, they turned around with reluctance until they saw a walker appearing from the forest located outside the fence.

Lee reached for his gun, seeing it was only one, but then another one followed it. And another one, until there were five of them. His face was frozen like a paused movie in an expression of bewilderment as he saw more figures shuffling between the trees, advancing. There were more zombies as far as the eye could see. Their moaning became a sickening chant of a marching band as they limped towards the farm.

"Oh no…" Lee mumbled.

He flicked the eyes along the landscape and saw that the herd was also advancing from the rear and the front of the farm. The trees and forests provided the zombies enough cover and they would only be noticed by the group until it was too late.

"Watch out!" Carley shouted.

A walker bent over the fence, trying to wriggled his way inside, but it ended up losing its balance and landing on the ground with a face plant. It landed right in front of Lee's feet, but he was fast enough to whip out his gun and fire a shot onto its skull. The walker halted dead without a single spasm, his arms slumping to the ground.

"We gotta tell the group!" Lee said.

"We'll never make it there in time!" Carley added. "They probably heard the shot! We gotta get to the barn!"

Lee and Carley rushed towards the barn, whose doors were open. They were inside in a matter of seconds, and when they turned around, a dozen of lurkers who'd noticed their position were already lunging at them. Lee and Carley shut the doors tight, locking it with a plank positioned between the door handles. The couple backed away slowly, as they saw the doors shaking from the assault and the zombies' groans.

Lee and Carley exchanged a glance of pure urgency.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: I was afraid of writing a really bad and cheesy love scene there, but I was actually pleased of how it turned out. Tell me what you thought.**


	38. A Dictatorship Always Falls

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 38 – A Dictatorship Always Falls**

The flames had burnt the corpses to a black matter, resembling burnt steaks. The fire persisted high, the scent even stronger and the flames causing waves in the air. Daryl and Lilly deemed that there was nothing left to see here. The two turned around and headed to the truck.

They stopped when a soft moan reached their ears. They recognized it as being from a walker, but why would there be zombies there? Daryl looked at the roasting pyre. "The hell? Where that coming from?"

"Think one of those burning walkers is still alive?" Lilly inquired.

"Doubt it."

Daryl expanded his sight towards the horizon. He narrowed his eyes, focusing his retina on the forest and making an effort to see something in the dusk. That's when he saw it. Multiple contours of humanoid figures dragging themselves along the forest, causing rustles under their feet and with their arms flailing. Some of them even had broken arms or where simply missing them. The groaning was unmistakable.

"Holy fuck!" Lilly blurted out.

Daryl opened the driver's door and entered in a haste. "Get in! We gotta warn the others!"

* * *

The strikes on the exterior being applied to the barn's door intensified with each walker joining the party. Splinters flew in the air like dust and got tangled in their hair and clothes. Lee and Carley knew they had to find a way to take them out, but they only had a full clip each one on their Glocks 17 and taking them on directly wasn't an option.

Carley's eyes swept the room just as she spotted a fallen jerry can near a pile of hay. She knew it belonged to Daryl and Lilly, and it must've been an extra can they'd forgotten to take with them. She hurtled towards it, praying it would have some fuel. A relieved sigh escaped her mouth when the weight of the can tugged her arm down. "Lee! We can use this gas to light the walkers!"

Lee withdrew his head. "What? That's insane!"

"We're not getting out of here any other way! If the gunshot didn't, the fire will alert them."

Lee nodded. "Okay, fine. Pass it to me and get to that platform."

Carley gave him the can and then climbed up the ladder that led to the higher platform, hanging a few meters above the ground. Lee unscrewed the lid off the can and splashed gasoline on the front doors that would give in at any second, then created a trail of gas stretching throughout the building. He made sure to soak the haylofts for bigger effect.

Lee abandoned the empty can and ran up to the door. Taking a deep breath, he unlocked it. He backed away as the doors creaked open and the horde flushed inside and he scurried up the ladder. "C'mon! This way!"

Lee reached the platform and got on his feet. He walked up to Carley, and the two looked down at the herd that had its feet right on top of the gas. The walkers hoisted their arms, futilely craving to catch them. Lee fished his pocket for a zippo lighter and hit the flint. The lighter sparkled, and Lee stretched out his arm above the horde.

"Do it!" Carley urged.

Lee opened his hand. The lighter slipped from his fingers seemed to fall in slow-motion. When the flame made contact, it spread through all the places Lee had poured gasoline. Carley and Lee had to cover their eyes as the eruption of fire blinded them and made them stagger towards the wall. Below them, hay was being transformed onto grey ashes and igniting the zombies' legs, the fire slowly crawling up their bodies. The walkers would soon be dead, but they didn't even notice they were being cooked alive.

* * *

The sunset was fading away with the passing of time quickly, now introducing a darker sky with the stars already visible above. It was a fresh night, with a fresh breeze often whistling by and the sound of crickets constant. Jimmy and Beth enjoyed the cordial evening. They sat on the swinging couch out on the porch, Beth's head laying on his shoulder and Jimmy's arm around her neck like a gift lace.

The two had met in high-school, and at the beginning their relationship just consisted of awkward encounters. They had been a couple for three months and Jimmy was prepared to do anything to stay with her, especially because he didn't know if he could ever get another girlfriend if she dumped him.

"You alright, Beth?" Jimmy asked.

"Yeah. Of course." Beth replied bluntly.

"You've been a little…off lately. Ya barely talk."

"I don't want to."

Beth folded her left sleeve, showing her wrist, and that's when Jimmy noticed something. In her wrist was drawn a scarred line, maybe two. Jimmy straightened immediately and gripped her wrist to get a better look, and he was now sure what it was.

"You been cutting yourself up?!"

Beth retracted her arm and pulled down her sleeve. "Keep your voice down! Daddy can't know!"

"Beth, it ain't right to…"

"It isn't your business, Jimmy!"

"'Course it is, I'm…look, why did you do it?"

Beth blinked to avoid breaking into tears. "I just…I thought…I couldn't handle it...Arnold and Lacey and with daddy gone, no idea where he was."

Jimmy placed his hand on her shoulder. "You can't do this again. Have ya thought 'bout the people you'd hurt? Your dad, your sister, your brother, Pat and Otis…and me."

Beth looked towards the horizon. Her eyes froze in her cranium and her lower lip drooped. "Jimmy, look!"

Jimmy looked towards the horizon, only to see in the distance, a massive horde invading the farm. Myriads of them were shuffling towards the property like a massive carnival choreography, approaching from all flanks. "Oh shit! Guys! Hershel! Walkers!"

Hershel, Maggie, Larry, Kenny, Otis, Patricia, T-Dog, Glenn, Andrea, Dale and Rick and his wife came rushing out the door, noticing the incoming catastrophe the dimension of an Egyptian plague. Billy Greene, Travis and Ben Paul appeared at the house, running through the fields to get to the porch. The three teens leaned on the rail of the stairs leading to the porch as they panted from the effort. Billy Greene wiped his sweaty visage. "Daddy! Biters, they're all over!"

"I know." Hershel said, contemplating the herd. "I've noticed."

Amongst the eerie sounds of the moaning orchestra, a revving vehicle made its way down the driveway. It was a pick-up truck, shoving aside walkers who didn't bother to get out of the path. The pick-up halted in front of the house, and Daryl and Lilly emerged out of them. "The whole place is fucked up!" Daryl said.

"Lori, is Carl in the house?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, he's in the house, he's in the living room!" **(AUTHOR NOTE: For once in his life.)**

"Goddammit, my family's out there!" Kenny exclaimed. Kenny whipped out a pistol he had in his belt and brushed past the teens, almost knocking them over, racing around the house and hollering their names, disappearing into the nightly fog. Rick wanted to prevent him but Kenny was too decisive to turn back.

"Dammit, we got everybody spread around camp, sitting ducks!" Rick sputtered.

"Patricia, kill the lights." Hershel said.

Patricia nodded and obeyed, vanishing into the household, followed by T-Dog. Glenn gawked at the horde, the slow expectation of everything turning to chaos forming inside his head. "Maybe they're just passing, like the herd on the highway. Should we just go inside?"

"Not unless there's some secret tunnel downstairs I don't know about." Daryl said. "A herd that size would rip the house down."

"This is fucking ridiculous. We're sitting out here instead of doing something!" Lilly said.

As if in answering her remark, T-Dog returned outside. He had the old bag of guns that accompanied them since the beginning, and he dropped it on the floor, amongst the survivors. He squatted and unzipped it, revealing a bundle of shotguns, rifles, handguns and boxes of bullets sticking out.

Glenn's gape fell on Maggie when she grabbed two shotguns, one of which she gave to him. "Maggie?"

"You grow in the country, ya learn a thing or two."

The farmhands along with the others equipped themselves with the weapon their preferred. The atmosphere was filled with metallic noises of clips slipped in and slides being bolted. Andrea had her trusty sniper rifle though, always dangling from her back. Larry slid a number of shells onto a shotgun and fiddled with the gun with finesse, then he picked up a pistol and shoved it onto Doug's hands. "What? I don't-"

"Don't be such a dork, you dough-boy!" Larry argued.

"No, dad! You're staying here!" Lilly said, taking the shotgun from his hands.

Larry rolled his eyes. "Oh, for the love of-"

"I've seen the number. It's no use." Daryl commented.

"You can go if you want." Hershel said.

"You gonna take 'em all on?"

"We have guns, we have cars."

"Kill as many as we can, and we'll use the cars to lead the others off the farm." Rick planned, checking his Colt Python for bullets.

Daryl's expression was deadpanned. "You serious?"

Hershel glared at Daryl. He didn't even need to look at his shotgun to reload eight shells into it. In his determined, inert posture, the group could see a faith emanating from him, that inspired them to battle, to be warriors, making it obvious that he wouldn't go down without a fight. "This is my farm. I'll die here."

Daryl shrugged, before he vaulted over the porch's railing. "Whatever. It's a good night as any."

Rick, T-Dog, Maggie, Glenn, Daryl, Andrea, Dale, Otis, and Lilly had four vehicles they'd have to share, with one person driving and the other two shooting. Rick, T-Dog and Lilly took the Peletier's SUV, Dale, Otis and Andrea drove in the pick-up truck, Maggie and Glenn rode in the Hyundai while Daryl had his motorbike. The fighters were jogging towards their respective vehicles, when an explosion in the barn ceased them.

"Why the hell's the barn on fire?!" Daryl demanded.

"It must've been Lee and Carley!" Jimmy said. "I saw them walking around the barn before them walkers came!"

"They must be stuck inside." Dale said, grinding his teeth and ripping his hat out of his head.

"I'll go get them in the RV." Jimmy volunteered. Beth grasped his arm, mouthing him words not to go. "I'll be okay, Beth. I'll be right back."

Travis scratched his chin. If he helped saving those two random group, it could land him and Ben a good reputation. And though Travis knew he could survive by himself, he believed in safety in numbers and it would be easier with someone always watching his back. Just as Jimmy jogged towards the RV, Travis stopped him with his voice. "Hey, wait! Can I come with you?"

"What're you doing, Travis?!" Ben Paul susurrated

"There's absolutely no way you're getting your hands on a gun!" Rick objected, putting his fists in his hips.

"I can't walk much, but I'm a good shot!" Travis insisted.

"There's no time! Just hurry up!" Jimmy said.

* * *

Jimmy yanked the camper door open and rushed inside, with Travis taking his time to climb up. Travis shut the door, and made sure to lock it to prevent walkers from getting in. Just as Jimmy walked towards the driver's seat, he noticed a figure through the corner of his eye. He looked to his left and saw Clementine sitting by the table.

"Oh…hey, little girl." Jimmy said.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"The farm's been overrun, and we gotta go save them friends 'a yours from the barn."

"Who's trapped in the barn?" Clementine enquired.

"I dunno. But just sit down, okay? We gotta focus on this."

Jimmy lit the ignition while Travis sat beside him. Jimmy pulled out a gun. "Hey, don't mess around with one 'a these, okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry, it's not like I'm gonna put a bullet in you."

Travis took the gun and rolled down his window. He made sure the safety was off before positing his arms in a firing position. Jimmy speeded towards the barn, while anyone who could fight was mounting on vehicles and hurrying towards the barn, to kill as many as they could. The others, they watched the terror from the front porch.

* * *

"C'mon, Carley!"

The flames were starting to grow out of expected proportion and the heat burnt their faces and made the air almost unbreathable. They moved further along the balcony and headed towards the window. They climbed over it, which led to declined roof they could stand on.

The five vehicle convoy was heading towards the barn. Lee shot a bullet into the air, to signal them. "Hey! Over here!"

The camper parked in front of the declined roof. Lee and Carley hopped on top of the massive vehicle. They got on their knees, so that they would be thrown off. Lee gave a noisy tap on the ceiling, and having understood the command, Jimmy drove away back to the house.

The other four vehicles were driving from one edge of the property to the other, with someone poking out the window and shooting. The ambiance reeked of gunpowder and the deafening shots, resembling balloons being popped, drowned out the moans. Lee's stomach clenched as the vehicles often bumped into biters, or did reckless curves that risked a crash or the cars flipping over. The cars rolling from one place to the other reminded a rally race.

Jimmy halted halfway, allowing Lee and Carley to descend and enter the RV. Clementine screeched as she, her guardian and Carley hugged each other, smiling of finding one another again. Lee disentangled from her and got on his feet. He walked towards Jimmy, but his legs became stuck in place when he saw Travis.

"Why…why're you here?" Lee asked.

"He helped me with them walkers." Jimmy said, as he drove back to the farm.

"Yeah. I helped." Travis said in a grumpy tone, extending his arm and giving the gun to Lee. He held the gun by the barrel, the handle facing Lee for safety. Lee could see by his professional weapon manipulations that this kid knew a thing or two. "Here, have it back if you want it."

Lee quirked a brow, wondering if he should take his gun or not. After some thinking, he gently pushed the gun back towards Travis. "Keep it. I'm gonna make sure the group knows what you did here."

Travis smirked and moved in his seating. "Thanks."

* * *

Hershel was standing outside of his house, his shotgun stock butted against his shoulder and the weapon in a firing position. He fired at the walkers, that were no further away than five meters. It was always the same movement, a shot fired, a steady aiming towards the next target and another shot. After each eight shells, he had to reload.

Kenny was still missing and so was his family. Those who had remained at the house – Lori, Carl, Carol, Sophia, Patricia, Beth, Billy Greene, Ben Paul, Larry, Doug and the twins – were packing everything they could carry, which was barely anything. The group grabbed the few duffle bags they had and the nearly-empty gun bag. Hershel however, was firm in place and wasn't giving up on his shooting practice.

"Hershel, we gotta go!" Lori yelled. He didn't budge. "Hershel, c'mon!"

The walkers were now closing them in, surrounding them, and if they weren't out of there soon, they would be all devoured. The group, knowing nowhere else to turn, dashed towards the woods, some of them dispersing dangerously from the core group. It was a risky trick but they didn't know what else to do. Lori left Hershel, she couldn't do anything else for him.

The RV parked a few meters away from the house, much to their relief. Lee opened the door and shouted at the top of his lungs. "Get to the RV!"

Everybody turned around and ran towards the camper. Ben Paul noticed two figures moving out of the corner of his eye. He glanced to his left and saw Katjaa and Duck. He was going to tell them that Katjaa's husband had gone searching for them, but he choked on his own saliva when a creature approached them from behind.

"Uh, lady! Watch out!" Ben Paul warned.

It was too late. The zombie lunged at the woman and the infant and due to its dead weight, Katjaa and Duck collapsed on the ground, with the zombie pinning them down. Ben Paul wanted to react, to do something, but every inch of his body was frozen and he seemed to be nailed to the ground.

"I couldn't find th-" Kenny said, appearing from the shadows. He stopped mid-sentence, noticing his family wailing for help. He raised his gun and shot the walker through the temple, drenching his family in thick, redden goo. "Kat! Jesus Christ!"

Kenny dragged the zombie off of them and then lent them a hand to get up. Kenny glimpsed at Ben Paul with bitterness boiling in his eyes as his nostrils flared with his heavy breathing. "You're gonna pay for this, you little punk!"

Ben Paul gulped. He hadn't done anything, he'd just stood there and two people had gotten hurt because of him. What he feared the most were the consequences he'd suffer in the aftermath. He really didn't want to be responsible if he and Travis ended up alone out on the road. He stood there, the remorse of guilt eating him away, before he sprinted towards the camper.

Patricia and Beth held hands so they wouldn't split up as they hotfooted to safety. Out of the blue, an old undead farmer materialized next to them and dug its teeth on Patricia's neck. The walker took a vicious bite, squirting a volcanic eruption of blood. Patricia clutched Beth's hand, essaying to hang onto dear life. Patricia gurgled and suffocated on her own blood. Beth screeched as tears flowed down her cheeks. Beth tried to pull away from the cannibalistic embrace of the walker, but Lori came and lugged her away from Patricia. Beth flapped her arms in the air, to reach Patricia, who was now being quietly devoured by six walkers.

Doug almost tripped over when his foot was anchored by something. The oxygen was evicted from his lungs when a skeletal hand clawed its fingers around his ankle. In an instinct, caused by the spur of the moment, he clenched his fist and the gun went off. The gun barked and flew off his hand, and the bullet caved the walker's skull in. The fingers let go and Doug's hand was left shaking.

"What d'ya know?" Larry said. "Dough-boy scored for the first time."

Larry and Doug entered the RV last. Kenny and Katjaa swapped seats with Jimmy and Travis. Hershel was a statue, whacking monster after monster, a man fulfilling his duty to protect what was rightfully his. "Cover me, Carley!"

Lee hopped off the RV and galloped towards Hershel. He was untouchable; whenever a lurker neared him, they would drop dead on the floor by a guardian angel with a gun. Lee patted Hershel's shoulder, which brought him back to the real world. "We gotta go!"

Hershel lowered his shotgun and took a few deep breaths. "This is my farm!"

"Not anymore." Lee said. The flames in the distance were mirrored in the icy coldness of his eyeballs. "It belongs to the walkers now!"

Hershel and Lee returned to the camper. The second they were aboard, Kenny cruised far, far away from the farm. The pick-up truck and the SUV followed them from behind.

* * *

Glenn rolled his window back up as the walkers were too close, and at one point, one of the zombies almost tore the gun from his hands. Maggie was circling the car around. Glenn's heart sunk when she stepped on the brakes, due to a barricade of walkers that stood in her way. They were too many to drive through. The zombie stamped their faces against the windshield and the windows, making a squeaking sound with their fingertips. Their mouths, some of them dirty with crimson blood, bit the air and stupidly tried to munch the survivors through the glass.

"Oh my God…" Maggie mumbled, her jaw quavering. "I can't get through…"

"Head out!"

"What?!" Maggie said, her eyes glassy.

"Get off the farm now!"

"Don't say that!"

"Maggie, it's lost!"

"The others, we can't leave them!"

"Get off the farm, now!"

Maggie sniffled and wiped the corner of her eyes, before he switched to the reverse gear and backed away from the horde. The zombies scatter and Maggie took advantage and pressed on the accelerator, driving clean through them. Most of them were tackled down like bowling pins, making a thud sound against the car.

* * *

Daryl sat in his bike, that had the engine on but was still. He was distant from the farm, calmly admiring the blazes tearing down the farm and the hordes trekking aimlessly around the farm. A moment of peace after the storm, a moment perfect for a Cuban cigar.

Daryl's head snapped to the side when he heard a female shriek. He gripped the handles, put his feet on the foot-holders and gave the engine a boost, driving towards the source of the noise. He saw Carol and Sophia. They dragged their bodies with difficulty as their lungs pricking from the desperate jogs they'd make to escape the walkers.

"C'mon, I ain't got all day!" Daryl shouted.

Carol and Sophia mounted on Daryl's vehicle, even though they had to squeeze. Daryl jerked the handle, making the exhaust pipe roar, before he speeded away from the destruction. They left the farm behind like it was an awful, distant memory.

* * *

Hershel was in the back of the camper. He gazed at the horizon, in which he saw the farm. The wooden barn had burnt and all that remained was its metal structure, albeit before Hershel could blink, the structure came down, turning the barn into a flat, burning ash. All those happy memories, the one-hundred and fifty years of hard labor rewarded with a prosper land and personal reward, all gone in the fire and with those damned beasts who take all and leave nothing but death and destruction. Hershel felt tears welling in his eyes and had to stop looking.

"I'm sorry you lost your farm, Hershel." Lee said, his mouth dry like the desert. "I can't imagine how it's like."

"I just can't believe. It was my duty, and I failed. And now, it's all gone."

"I know that right now things seem a bit down, but we must have faith."

Hershel looked at Lee. "I can't profess enough I'm a man of God, and I can't say I understand his divine plan. Christ did promise the resurrection of the dead. I just thought he had something a…little different in mind."

Lee pondered on the wise man's words, since in all honesty, he'd never thought about it like that. "Lee. Can we have a word, please?" Katjaa called from the front.

Lee walked through the crowded camper towards the driving seat. Beth was sobbing loudly, with Jimmy consoling her. Doug kept his head low and murmured nonsense to himself. "What's up?" Lee said to Katjaa.

Kenny and Katjaa exchanged a fatigued look. Duck was slumped in his mother's arm, and he didn't appear to be awake. He was pale like a ghost. "Is Duck feeling alright…?"

Katjaa slid her hand underneath his shirt and rolled it up. Purple teeth carvings were drawn in Duck's abdomen. "What the…" Lee exhaled.

"Happened during the attack." Kenny said, his vision concentrated on the road.

"What're we gonna do?" Lee asked. "Should we leave him like Mark…?"

"Don't say that!" Kenny grunted.

"I'm gonna keep an eye on him and see if his condition changes."

"Katjaa…"

"What else is there to do?! We thought you should know."

"Important to stay honest with each other." Kenny said, giving Lee an earnest look. "The plan has changed, Lee. We're heading to the coast. No delays. I should've…I should've…"

Kenny couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence. "Anyway, if you could tell Clementine, we would appreciate it. Just don't tell her in here. I don't want the others to know just yet."

"Oh fucking hell. Looks like we gotta stop." Kenny said.

"Why?"

"Look ahead."

Lee fixated his eyes on the road as the camper diminished in velocity until it came to a halt. Even in the night, it wasn't hard to spot what was stopping them. In the windshield of the RV, reflected the image of an extensive and bulky train blocking their way. He couldn't make out details, but it was obvious that they weren't getting through that. "Holy shit."

"Why're you stopping?" Lilly asked.

"There's a train in the way." Lee explained. "No way to get around or through."

The survivors inside the camper stepped outside, while the others in the remaining vehicles did the same. The massive group orbited around Rick, waiting for him to say his orders. "Alright, we're gonna have to camp for the night." Rick said.

"It's freezing." Carl complained.

"We'll build a fire."

"Wait…where's Patricia?" Otis asked.

The silence and the worn-out gazes pointed at Otis hit him harder than any words that could be said. Otis' expression contracted in shades of sorrow, before he sprang around and distanced himself from the group. "Fuck, no…no…Patty…"

Not long after, the group turned towards the direction they came from, as a Hyundai and a motorbike illuminated them with the headlights and parked behind the convoy. Maggie ran to her relatives and the Greene family chained in a family hug, shedding tears of joy over their reunion.

"I'm glad to see you guys." Lee smiled with warmth.

"I saw Glenn flicking his headlights like crazy out on the highway, figured only an Asian man could drive like that." Daryl said. Glenn grinned at the joke aimed toward him.

"You guys running on fumes too?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, pretty much." Daryl said.

"We left most of our vehicles behind, we won't all fit. We'll have to make a run for some gas and supplies in the morning."

"Spend the night here?" Carol enquired.

"Gonna go look for some firewood." Daryl said. "Only got so many arrows. How you doing on ammo?"

"Not enough." Rick said.

"We can't just sit out here with our asses hanging out." Maggie said.

"Watch your mouth." Hershel reprimanded. Hershel had his gun lulled under his arm like it was a newspaper. "Everybody stop panicking and listen to Rick."

"Alright, we'll set up a perimeter." Rick said. "In the morning, we'll find gas and supplies. We'll keep pushing on."

"Glenn and I can go for a run now, try and scrounge up for some supplies." Maggie said.

"No, we stay together! God forbid something happens and people get stranded without a car."

"Rick, we're stranded now." Glenn said.

"I know it looks bad!" Rick said, struggling to keep people under control. "We've all been through hell and worse but at least we found each other! I wasn't sure, I really wasn't, but we did. We're together. We keep it that way. We'll find shelter somewhere, there's gotta be a place!"

"Rick, look around, okay?" Glenn said. "There's walkers everywhere, they're migrating or something."

"There's gotta be a place not just where we hole up, but that we fortify, hunker down, pull ourselves together, build a life for each other, for fuck's sake! I know it's out there, we just have to find it!"

"Even if we do find a place," Maggie said. "And we think it's safe, we can never be sure. For how long? Look at the farm. We fooled ourselves thinking it was safe."

"We won't make that mistake again." Hershel said.

"What about the train? We can sleep inside and in the morning, see if we can get it to work." Lee suggested. "It could take us far."

Mumblings of agreement resounded through the group. Rick twitched his neck and stayed silent, as the solution appeared to have been found.

* * *

The night was now an abyss of darkness. The forest surrounded them on two sides, serving as perfect camouflage for any walkers that ambushed them. The group had made a fire near the train and sat around the bonfire, whether it was on the ground or on top of felled logs. The light of the fire was the only thing allowing them to see in the bleakness of the night. Otis was isolated, sitting in a boulder near the woods, crying away.

Maggie and Glenn took a private moment for themselves. Glenn was constantly reminded of that near-death experience, but it had taught him something. He would, from that moment on, always say what he thought, always seize the opportunities life gave him. He swore to himself that he wouldn't be held back by fear, and that if he ever perished, he would at least have lived to the fullest.

"I love you Maggie." Glenn admitted. "I know it's something I should've said a long time ago, but I love you."

Maggie's emotions were visible in her cracked voice. "I—I love you too Glenn."

The couple held hands as they went to sit near the Greene's. Lee was kneeled with Carley and Clementine. Clem was sitting next to him, curled into a ball with her face hidden behind her knees. Lee's heart seemed to have an infinity of needles stinging it. In his mind, he was meditating on what he would say to her. Lee needed to free that weight from his heart, so he just cut to the chase. "Duck is bitten."

"Uh?" Clementine said in a strangled pitch.

Carley's eyelids spanned as she appeared to hear what he said. "He got bit by a walker trying to escape the farm."

"Oh…I don't feel good."

Lee understood her pain and rubbed her back in a soothing massage. "What about Patricia?"

"There was no time for a burial."

"Walkers?"

"Yeah. Horrible."

The duo silenced themselves, excruciating agony giving them nausea. Lee thought about something nice to tell her, but he could only say one single phrase. "I'm glad I have you."

Clementine smirked and glanced at Lee. "Me too. I heard you outside my treehouse that one day and thought about dropping a hammer on your head."

"Hmm. That's nice."

"I didn't though."

"Thanks."

Lee picked up a few twigs that were at his feet and fed them to the fire. He couldn't take his eyes off the fire. The crisping flames were somewhat relaxing, permitting him to get lost in his train of thought. He was brought back to reality when Carol whispered something to him. "We're not safe with him."

Lee wiggled an eyebrow and looked at Carol, who had Sophia asleep in her lap. "What?"

"We're not safe with Rick. He was a good leader at the beginning, but he's fallen behind. He can no longer keep us safe."

_The fuck?, _Lee thought. It wasn't often that he saw Carol saying something like that. "No. Rick's done alright by me."

"You're his henchman. And I'm a burden."

"What do you want?"

"A man of honor."

"Rick has honor."

"You should take his place."

Maggie intercepted some of Carol's words. She turned to her family and Glenn. "I think we should take our chances."

"Don't be foolish." Hershel said. "There's no food, no fuel, no ammo."

A rustle in the forest was heard. Everyone jumped to their feet and erected their heads, the idea of there being a walker present piercing their minds. Those who were armed readied their guns and faced towards the source of the noise. "What was that?!" Ben Paul asked.

"Could be anything." Daryl said, unslinging his crossbow. "Could be a raccoon, could be a possum. A walker."

"We need to leave!" Maggie said. "I mean, what're we waiting for?"

"Which way?" Glenn said.

"Back from where we came."

"The last thing we need is for everyone to be running off in the dark." Rick said with an austere and dead-serious tone. "We don't have the vehicles. No one's traveling on foot."

"Don't panic." Hershel said.

"I'm not—I'm not sitting here, waiting for another herd to blow through." Maggie said.

"No one's going anywhere!" Rick said.

"Do something!" Carol said.

"I am doing something!" Rick said. He raised his tone to enraged, loud whispers. "I'm keeping this group together, alive! I've been doing that all along, no matter what. I didn't ask for this! I killed people for you people, for Christ's sake! My hands are clean! Maybe—maybe you people are better off without me! Go ahead. I say there's a place for us, but maybe—maybe it's just another pipe dream, maybe I'm fooling myself again. Why don't you go find out yourself? Send me a postcard! Go on, there's the door. You can do better, let's see how far you get."

During that oppressing silence, nobody stepped forward. Some had their eyes set on Rick, while others avoided his gaze. They weren't sure what kind of speech he was giving. Maybe it was a tired man letting out nearly three months of survival of the fittest, maybe it was Rick imposing his leadership.

"No takers? Fine, but get this. If you stay…"

Rick paused for effect, which translated into a tension that made a bead of sweat slide down Doug's forehead. Lee had his arms folded, his eyebrows pressing on his wrinkled orbits, his breathing as calm as the night's breeze. However, he was glaring at Rick, with a mixture of emotions that he couldn't quite make out.

"…this isn't a democracy anymore!"

There was more silence. Just the crisping of the fireplace. But Lee couldn't hold his tongue back. He just couldn't. "That's where you're wrong, Rick! This IS a democracy. If I know anything, whether if it's from the History books or this world we're living in now, is that dictatorships always fall."

Lee and Rick locked a narrowed look. Rick curled the hand holding his revolver into a fist. Lee tightened his lips until they were whitened. The flame in their eyes burned with the same intensity as the fire-pit. In that moment of disdain, in which the two men forgot about everything and everyone around them, the two began wondering if they weren't becoming a problem to one another.

* * *

** AUTHOR NOTE: What a fun and challenging chapter to write! I think the most challenging thing to write on this chapter was to coordinate what all of the characters were doing in a short space time, all the while synchronizing the canon events with the changes caused by the additional characters. Sorry for the long character enumerations. **

** I forgot to mention this earlier, but as you might (not) remember, Edwin Jenner told Lee how someone can die and turn without being bit. Unlike Rick, who in canon keeps it a secret until the finale of Season 2, Lee actually told everybody off-screen. So yeah, sorry if I forgot about that.**

** I also just noticed how this story is filling up with so much romance. Carley and Lee, Maggie and Glenn, Jimmy and Beth, and probably others on the way…I totally didn't see this coming.**

** Jimmy and Travis will definitely become more important characters, because if there's anything I hate, are red-shirts. In my opinion, Travis is the kind of guy who would be somewhat arrogant and who likes to gloat, but who knows his stuff and might actually know a few things on how to survive. Jimmy I guess, was more of a naïve guy, held back by his lack of confidence and his self-esteem. That's how I picture them though. And yes, Patricia was kind of a red shirt, and she had cool scenes in the comics and I feel bad about killing her, but I really need to shorten the cast!**

** This arc of the story isn't finished yet, so no preview ;)**


	39. The Savior And The Reaper

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 39 – The Savior And The Reaper**

**AUTHOR NOTE: I have made a terrible mistake, guys, thanks to PirateMonkey97 for pointing it out. Basically, I forgot to add the station wagon at the end of the St. John arc. So I went back and added that scene. Yeah, please forgive my incredible stupidity.**

* * *

That night, the group split up when it came to bedding. They were divided in two, half slept in the cars while the rest slumbered in the boxcar of the train. The boxcar however, had something that didn't quite add up. There was a potent stench filling the air while cardboxes, empty bottles, a mattress and tools such as a pencil and scissors were piled up in a corner. Lee was sure somebody had lived there, but he just hoped that person was gone.

The burly moon glittered in the night like a watchful eye. Rick had people exchange turns in keeping watch since he didn't want to get caught off guard. Both doors of the boxcar were slightly cracked open, to get fresh air inside. They would suffocate with the stuffy stink otherwise. The boxcar wasn't too large, so Lee had to sleep with Kenny's family, Carley and Clementine. Katjaa and Kenny didn't get any sleep, as they had Duck in their arms and mumbled things to one another. Lee couldn't shut his eyes.

He swiped his eyes across the room and noticed a water bottle and a clipboard with a map in the corner. He reached out to the bottle and gave it to Katjaa. "Ah, thanks, perfect."

"You're welcome." Lee said.

"He's allergic to bees." Katjaa blurted out, cradling her son in her arms.

"Is that right?"

"It's all I can keep thinking about. Like somehow that matters."

"It doesn't."

"I know. Well, I don't. But you're probably right."

"How's—how's Duck?"

Katjaa's eyes rolled through her son, as his eyeballs flicked around in his skull. "I don't know. Tired. Which could mean a lot of things, right?"

"Yeah. His body is probably fighting whatever is in it." Lee said.

"Exactly."

"Has Clementine said anything? To you, about Patricia or Duck? I'm worried."

Katjaa glanced at Clem, who as asleep next to Carley. "No. That little girl's a puzzle."

Lee turned to the clipboard he'd seen a few seconds earlier and something caught his eye. He picked it up and inspected it, trying to see the image even in the obscurity. The street lightning that existed before made him forget how the night was dark. Lee finally managed to identify the red lines on the map as being train tracks. A breath escaped his mouth, knowing how it could be useful. He was about to pass it to Kenny, but he held back as he thought that he should let him and Katjaa to rest with their chil

* * *

At the crack of dawn, Lee sneaked out of the boxcar so he wouldn't wake the others up. The bright morning's cold froze him to the bones and drilled right through his clothes. The others were still crammed into the vehicles and T-Dog was half-asleep on top of the wagon. Lee halted when he saw Doug elbowed on the railing of the passageway leading to the cab, his gaze engaged in the road they'd come from. "Hey, Doug. What you doing here?"

Doug glanced at Lee. "Just wasn't tired."

"I saw you yesterday. You killed your first walker."

Doug grinned for a split second. "The gun flew out of my hand. Sorry. I know how ammunition is rare nowadays and I shouldn't have left it behind."

"It's okay. We'll make it. How you feeling?"

"Nothing. Just…bleak. I was scared shitless. And it makes me realize that I can't do anything. Anything I'd like to contribute needs batteries or tools I just don't have. I feel worthless on watch because I'm not wild with guns, and I just wish I was more helpful."

Lee heard the boxcar door opening, recognizable by the metallic squeak. Kenny was there. He had trouble keeping his eyelids open and each blink last at least two seconds. His horse-shoe moustache emphasized his glowering expression. "So, let's go see if this shit works, or what?"

"Of course." Lee said. "Why don't you come, Doug?"

Doug nodded and the three men headed towards the cab. Kenny jaunted at a lethargic pace, dragging his legs and yawning all the way there. Lee's hand reached for his gun as he saw the body of a male through the door's glass – with an orange, fluorescent vest – slumped over the controls of the train. Its skin was dark and maggots crawled around in its vacant skull. Lee opened the door but the second the tip of his gun met the back of the putrid head, the corpse fell off the chair. Lee twisted his mouth as he saw that half of that person's skull was missing, showing a goo oozing sight of a scrambled brain. Lee looked towards one of the windows that was shattered and dripping with blood, and could guess what had happened.

"I don't think this guy came back." Lee said.

Kenny sat in the chair, in front of the three facets comporting a multitude of buttons and levers. He rubbed his chin, examining the interface. One of the panels was crusty with dried blood and Kenny hoped that wouldn't mess up the controls. Lee saw an orange button in the console that was blinking. "That button is blinking."

"Push it." Doug said.

"Push it?!"

"I saw a documentary about trains once. Trust me, it'll work."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Here, look."

Doug leaned forward. Kenny skewed out of the way and Doug pressed the button. The train made a loud hissing sound and steam slithered from below the wheels. "It's just the brakes."

"See? You can be useful." Lee said.

Doug scratched his head, smirking at the compliment. Kenny's eyes glittered with his admiration over the train. "Holy shit! How the hell do we get this baby movin'?"

"Ask Mr. Amtrak over there."

"No clue." Doug said.

Lee tiptoed past the dead engineer and took the courtesy to tow the corpse out of the cab. He swabbed his hands against one another, but then recalled about the map he had found the previous day. He fished it out of his pocket, straightened the folded sheet and stretched it to Kenny. "What is this?" Kenny grabbed the paper and his head lurched back as he examined the map. "Is this what I think it is?! This hoss will take us right to Savannah! A hundred tons of steel. Put a thousand walkers between us and the ocean and we don't have to give a shit!" Kenny breathed, overwhelmed by the discovery. "I can't believe it."

"What about Duck?"

"What about him?" Kenny asked, in a casual tone, not taking his eyes off the map.

"We can't pretend like nothing happened."

"We can't act like he's dead either!" Kenny remarked in stark tone, like a dog growling, menacing to bite the mailman.

"Okay. Fair enough."

"Try to get this thing started. There's gotta be some kind of manual or something."

Doug inspected the wall of the cab. There were four panels, each one with a number and a series of knobs and dials. Doug adjusted two of the levers in the panel numbered 6. "Y'know, I think I may be able to…"

Lee became a statue as he saw the panel 6 lighting up in a positive light when Doug pressed those switches. "Holy shit, did you just…?"

"Fuck yeah! Nice job, Doug." Kenny said.

T-Dog burst in through the door, having being awakened. "Hey, dogs, this shit is workin'?"

"You betcha, T." Kenny said.

"We're still trying to figure out this thing, but we might be able to light it up. We got our expert here, Doug." Lee said.

"I…I don't know how to do the same with the others though." Doug admitted, as T-Dog entered the cab and looked at the panels.

Lee looked around the cab. The cab was very tight and if there was a manual lying around he would see it. The only thing visible was a puddle of puke at his feet, a map of Savannah in a bin and a torn notebook hung to the wall. Lee grabbed the notebook and saw that the front page was entitled 'ENGINE STARTUP'. "Actually, I think I may have the solution to that."

The startup page was torn out, but he remembered that pencil he saw in the boxcar. The excitement of actually having a working train made him jog back to the wagon and retrieve the pencil. Remembering Clementine's leaf rubbings, he scribbled the paper and could distinguish the indentations of the writing. There were four rows of instructions, all of them marked by a number – 6, 5, 9, 9.

After some meditating, Lee returned to the cab, having figured out the puzzle. He dictated the orders and Doug regulated the buttons. When they were exploring the engine compartments, they had found three tools – a spanner, a spike remover and a monkey wrench – that would come in handy whether it was for maintenance or bashing skulls in. The engine indicators said that they were low on gas but they could make some good distance.

Lee stood inside in the cab, waiting for a response. Within a few moments, the engine began humming, stamping a simper on Kenny's lips. "Shit, we're golden!"

"Yeah, we are." Lee agreed, a new feeling of hope developing inside him. "Man, feels good."

"Let's fucking enjoy this." Kenny said. "Let's see if she'll move."

Lee pushed the throttle bar. The train rolled in baby steps forward but halted brusquely, almost making Lee lose balance. Kenny snorted. "Of course, we're still attached. Can you find here where we're stuck, and get us un-stuck?"

"Yeah."

* * *

Lee set the spanner below the pin that kept the derailed wagon coupled with the train. He pushed up, grunting from the effort, his hands white as salt, until the pin popped out, broken free from months of accumulating rust. Lee wiped his forehead. He turned around, to tell Kenny they were good to go, but saw Rick standing beside him.

Lee looked at him, austere. "Hey, Rick."

"Hey, Lee." Rick said, but with an unfriendly tone.

Lee rolled his eyes. "Dammit, Rick, what do you want?"

Rick marched towards Lee and stabbed him in the chest with his index finger. "I'm trying to keep this group alive, Lee. And I will do anything to achieve that. These people, they don't know what the world is made of. They need someone to make the decisions when they rear their heads. Have you even thought about what you're saying? If we have this little democracy of yours, the group will split."

Lee's eyes were drawn to Rick's as he slapped his finger away. "This isn't about leadership, Rick. It never was. We have done some bad things, Rick, for the group. And I'm not saying that we shouldn't have done those things. I'm just saying that we can't lose ourselves, Rick."

Rick jerked his belt and jolted his neck, his snake eyes fixed on the ground. Rick spun around and left Lee, mantling onto the wagon and disappearing into the boxcar.

"You touch any 'a ma stuff?"

Lee stiffened and sprang around as a man, with a voice as raspy as bark, spoke from behind him. Lee kept his cool as he felt the familiar sensation of adrenaline running through his body. The man, standing a few feet from him, sent him a heavy coal-like glare that made Lee careen. Despite having a bit of a gut, the man's face seemed rugged and rigid like the skin of a crocodile, and made Lee hesitate on throwing a punch.

The man approached Lee, with a deadpan look on his face. His hair was ivory like pearls but the dirt made it seem like a whole different color, and his tanned frontage was camouflaged by his stubble. Lee structured a sentence in a firm voice, showing no sign of fear. "I took the pencil and the water. I also took the map of the train routes."

"That's fine, you can have that." The man said, his breath a mix of alcohol and years, if not decades, of lack of hygiene.

"Really?"

"Yep. Got 'em all up in here." He said, pointing his finger towards his head. Lee's guard started to wear off as his muscles became more relaxed. The man gave off a welcoming yet rancid vibe, and Lee considered the possibility that he wasn't a threat. The man looked at the boxcar. "I guess it's no worse for wear. Name's Chuck, Charles if you're fancy."

"Lee." Lee introduced himself.

"That your crew outside?"

"Yeah."

"And the guy up in the cab?"

"Him too."

"I saw you walking through here and I thought about scaring the pants off ya." Chuck said with an eerie sneer.

"What?" Lee whooped.

"But I couldn't force myself to do it."

Lee bit his lip. "You're still kinda freaking me out."

"Train folk'll do that." Chuck said.

Lee and Chuck climbed on top of the boxcar and Lee saw Clementine and Carley sitting on one of the fallen logs. Rick was chatting with his family, but the rest of the group was still bunkered in the vehicles. Katjaa sat with Duck coiled in her arms as usual and the two teenager students were just chilling on the ground. Daryl sharpened a stick into a shiv. "We should probably introduce you to the others."

Chuck and Lee marched towards the group. They were unaware of his presence until Lee spoke. "Guys, this is Chuck. He's staying with us for a while."

"Really?" Rick said, instanctly shooting a glare towards him. "Who are you?"

"Just a normal man, I believe." Chuck said.

"We're using the train, his home, so that's why we should let him be with us if he wishes so." Lee said.

"Fine. But just know, Chuck, I'm keeping my eye on you." Rick said.

"I get ya loud an' clear." Chuck said.

Chuck looked at Clementine and reached into his pocket. Rummaging inside, he pulled out a candy bar and gave it to her. "Here ya go, little one."

Clementine hesitated, but took the candy eventually. "Thanks."

"Want some?" Chuck asked, looking at Travis and Ben.

"Hell yeah!" Ben Paul smiled, taking the candy and unwrapping, taking a crunchy bite.

"Uh, no, thanks." Travis refused.

"It's so nice to meet someone normal for a change." Katjaa said.

"Welcome." Lee said.

"Thank ya." Chuck replied, his tone vague. He sat on the log and tuned a guitar on his lap.

"You met Kenny?"

"Sure did. Man shares my love for the road."

Lee smiled, enjoying the casual encounter, but that smile faded when his gaze fell upon Duck. He almost appeared to be dead, his breathing inaudible and an occasional cough as the plague in his veins leeched the life out of him.

Chuck kneeled in front of Katjaa. "I'm awfully sorry your son is not feeling good."

"I appreciate your concern." Katjaa said truthfully.

"Well, with a little TLC, I'm sure he'll be fit as a fiddle in no time." Chuck suggested, unbeknownst to him the true gravity of the situation. "I'm willing to offer y'all whatever I got, though it ain't much."

"We'd like to do the same."

"How ya survive out here all this time?" Daryl asked. "You hunt? You loot?"

"I get by however I can." Chuck said.

"Why do you live in the train?" Carley inquired.

"That thing keeps the deadies out. Never had a problem with 'em." Chuck replied.

Kenny emerged from the locomotive, sauntering towards them. "Why don't we hold off on…"

"Stay with us." Katjaa interrupted her husband. "We'd like the company."

Kenny stared at Katjaa but she avoided meeting his gaze. "Where are you from? You live around here?" Lee asked, since it was a good occasion to get to know the friendly homeless man.

"Georgia boy. Y'know where I live."

"Why're you alone?"

Chuck shrugged. "Why not? Seem to be doin' alright."

Lee released a breath of indignation. "Fine, then."

"I'm sorry, I do like being around you all, actually. It's nice."

"You caught us on a bad day."

"Eh, you still got a couple of kids," Chuck turned to Clementine. "And this one's got a good spirit. That's some kinda something."

Lee thought about that candy he had distributed to the group. He was still half-suspicious, and couldn't help ask the question that was on his mind. "Clementine, that candy Chuck gave you, it taste good?"

"Yeah." She said.

"No funny aftertaste?"

"No."

"The train's cool, uh?"

Clementine studied the train for a second. "I guess. Scary, kind of."

"So, Lee, are we cut loose?" Kenny enquired.

"Yeah, I loosened the pin. We should be ready to go." Lee said.

"Alright!" Kenny cheered, as he spun towards the group. "Guys, we've finally gotten this train moving. Get your stuff and get on."

"But what about the vehicles?" Daryl asked. "We're just leaving them here?"

"We don't got any choice."

"Y'all can go take a hike if you think I'm leaving my bike behind." Daryl said.

"Unless you can put it on top of the goddamned train, we don't have enough room for it." Kenny told him.

"And I will." Daryl argued. "I will put my bike on top of the fucking train.

"I gots some rope in ma things if you need some." Chuck said.

"What about you? Want a ride?" Kenny inquired.

"Well, it sounds like you're taking my home."

"That's a yes then."

"Haven't found anything better for keeping the creepy-crawlies out than that boxcar."

Rick and Lori headed into the vehicles to wake everybody up. Clementine was about to climb aboard when she stopped and looked at Lee. "Duck's sick."

"Get on the train, Clementine." Kenny said in a command, with contempt written in his face.

"He is getting sicker." Katjaa said, Duck bent over her shoulder.

"Let me look at him." Kenny said. He ambled around Katjaa to look at Duck's face, but even he was spooked by his anorexic facial features.

"We can't ignore this." Lee said. "Look at the kid, Kenny. This is happening."

"Ain't shit happenin'!" Kenny spat. "And if it were, what can we do here? We get on the train and we find something better. That is the plan!"

"I think Lee just wants to talk it through." Katjaa said in sensate words.

"It's talked through!" Kenny insisted. "Get on, Kat. I'll be upfront. I don't want to hear anymore nonsense until we get where we're going."

* * *

Against all odds, Daryl had gotten the motorbike on top of the boxcar with the help of Glenn. Daryl clambered onto the roof of the wagon, and then helped Glenn as the latter pushed the bike up in a vertical position. Then Daryl just had to strap it on with the rope Chuck offered them. It was difficult and dire, but he wasn't abandoning his valuable memento. Now with the train moving, the trees and forest skipped by them in green blurs. They didn't talk, they could barely hear each other with the noise of the speeding machinery. The group had already guessed what was wrong with Duck but they didn't say a word.

Lee was glad that most of them received Chuck kindly. Dale discussed old literature and the epoch of the 70's with him and Larry was glad to know that Chuck also had served in the army. Rick avoided talking to him. Otis was alone in his own mind.

"Must be hard, keeping a group this big alive." Chuck said, leaning against the boxcar overlooking outside.

"There were more of us." Lee said with sadness.

"Dead got 'em?"

"Sort of."

"Ah. Livin' got 'em?"

"That too."

Even with the racket caused by the train, Lee turned around as he heard Duck coughing. Except that now, he was coughing blood. Carol pushed Sophia's face onto her shoulder as Katjaa struggled to hold onto the convulsing boy. "LEE! Lee, I need you. I need you right now. I need you to go get Ken."

Lee kneeled in front of Duck. "Would you get that off his face? My hands are full here."

Lee looked around him but didn't see anything at his feet. A hand appeared next to him, lending a rag, belonging to Andrea. "Here."

"Thank you, could you just get that off his face, please?" Katjaa said. Lee wiped softly the blood, and when he looked at the rag, his heart skipped the beat. The white tissue was stained with blood was thick and dark. "He's running out of time. We need to stop this train. Please."

Lee nodded, swallowing his saliva as his stomach clenched. Ignoring anything else, he got up and darted out the door, his eyes fixated on the cab door. His stomping steps showed he was willing to do anything to stop the train. It was time Kenny faced the truth.

* * *

Lee opened the cab door. The door chirred but Kenny pretended that he didn't hear Lee enter the booth. His narrowed gaze focused on the long road ahead. Lee took a deep breath, since he knew the temper Kenny had and that he could get violent. "You need to stop this train."

Lee pulled out the bloodied rag and showed it to Kenny. "What the hell's that?"

"Your son's blood." Lee said.

"Get out of here, Lee."

"You know he's dying."

"Nobody knows shit! He'll be fine."

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't talk like."

"Go back there and you tell my wife everything will be fine! What's the goddamn deal? He's a little sick, but we can't just quit! It's a scratch! He's not like the others. Jesus, all y'all are just makin' it worse!"

"This isn't about you, Kenny, it's about Duck."

"The hell do you know?!" Kenny demanded. "You're not my friend!"

"I don't hate you."

"You sure as shit haven't done anything for me."

"You think you're the reason Duck was bitten!" Lee said, Kenny lowering his head in reply. "Like you had this coming or something. Why're you like this, Kenny?"

Kenny sniffled. "'Cause of Mark."

"What?"

"Back when camp got invaded, I was so caught up, trying to get my family to safety, and I saw Mark struggling with a walker. I—I didn't even stop. To help him. I just ran."

"You didn't kill Mark."

"Yeah, I did." Kenny said, rubbing his wrinkled forehead. "And now it's catching up to me."

"That's not what went down. You looked out for your kid and something bad happened to someone else."

"There ain't no way this world lets my son live when I helped put somebody else in the ground."

"That's not the way it works. You know that." Lee said, putting his hand on Kenny's shoulder. Kenny gave a look at Lee, a strong one, sign of their complicity. "Stop the train, man."

Kenny sighed. He gripped the throttle bar and yanked it back. The wheels screeched a deafening cry and the friction ignited sparkles in the tracks. The train gradually came to a halt. Lee led Kenny off the train and the two walked to the boxcar, where Katjaa stood in front of Duck, who was laying on the wagon.

Duck had gotten much worse in just a few hours. His paleness had become a grey rind, he was immobile and his eyelids had darkened. His lips were purple dead tissue. Lee's heart was daggered with the same pain of when one sees a hurt puppy. His respiration came in wheezes like he had a fractured lung.

"Ken, I think…I think it's time." Katjaa said.

"The boy's been bit, in case you haven't figured that out." Kenny told Chuck. The homeless man shifted his attention elsewhere in silence.

"What do you need?" Lee asked, wanting to make sure that the family's wishes were respected.

"I…I…"

"It's time to…this is not possible…" Katjaa said. Her voice oscillated between being solid and sometimes shattering like glass.

"What are we gonna do?"

"We can't allow him to become one of those things."

"But what if…? What if he doesn't…?" Kenny proposed, but in some pathological manner, he seemed convinced of what he was saying.

"Kenny…I love you very much…" Katjaa said, her voice breaking apart. "I love our son more than life itself…I need you to hear me…what you are saying, that he may not turn, is foolish."

"But…"

"No…" Katjaa lurched back, facing her husband, her eyelids stretched wide open.

"There's…" Kenny stuttered, looking at the ground, defeated, searching for the right argument to say, but one part of him told him that there was none. "C'mon, Kat…"

"If you think of one, you let me know."

"Isn't there some sort of pill, or something we can just give him…"

"Stop…"

"…he can just drift off to sleep, right hon'?" Kenny whimpered, burying his face in his palms. "I mean, Jesus, this is our son!"

"I know. But we know it's here," Katjaa said, placing her fingertip on her temple. "Or nothing."

"Fuck…then…just who? You want me to?"

"I'll do it." Lee came forward, no intention to back down.

"No. It should be a parent." Katjaa said.

"No parent should have to do something like this."

"Lee's right, Kat." Kenny said. "We can say our goodbyes and…just let that be it."

"I don't know." Katjaa frowned. "Lee, you'd be doing this family a great service. Why don't we take him into the forest? So Clementine doesn't have to see."

"Yeah…" Kenny breathed.

"Give us a moment to say goodbye…?"

"Of course." Lee asserted.

Katjaa turned to Duck. Her hands slid underneath his pliable figure and she carried in her arms. Katjaa and Kenny walked towards the forest, disappearing into the dense forest, where a little angel with a big soul would meet his doom.. They tried to brace themselves mentally for it, but the truth is that nobody could ever be prepared for such a thing.

"What's happening?" Clementine asked, the glint in her eyes reflecting the trees.

"Duck is dying." Lee said, low as a purr, his face contracting.

"I know. What are you doing?"

"I'm putting him out of his misery."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Look, Clem. Things will—"

A gunshot echoing through the forest, making a pack of crows fly out of their hiding spot, made Lee hop onto his feet. He was supposed to do the deed, what had happened?! Kenny's scream only made his heart race faster. His brain was confused amongst millions of possibilities, as he tried to guess what had happened, but deep down, there was only an explanation.

"Carley, get Clementine onto the train!" Lee hollered.

He sprang around and rushed into the forest, tearing right through it. The embrace of the dark trees seemed to isolate him from the outside world. He shoved aside branches and foliage, the sound of the gunshot still resounding in his head. As if the brakes had been pulled on him, Lee stood anchored to the ground, as the scene unfolded before his eyes.

Duck had been put in a sitting position, leaning against an oak tree with missing leaves. He was still, with no reacting. Katjaa laid on the ground, a pistol fallen near her hand. The nurturing woman specialized in medicine couldn't fix her broken heart this time. Her eyes were staring into a void and a pool of blood poured onto the grass below her head. Kenny kneeled by her side, tears flooding his eyes while gagged breaths escaped his lips.

"Kat! Kat! Katjaa!" Kenny muttered. "Why, Kat?! Honey, oh fuckin' God!"

"Wh—wha—"

Kenny looked at Katjaa, but he immediately lowered his head, hiding her bloodied image behind the bill of his baseball cap. Kenny veered her eyelids shut, finally putting the woman at peace. There was just one more thing to do. Kenny picked the gun and stood by Lee's side, as the two man stared at Duck. Lee wasn't even sure if Duck had any conscience of what was going on.

It hurt Kenny more than any gunshot or stab wound could hurt. His tone was somber and pure cold. "What do we do?"

"Give me the gun, Ken. I'll do it." Lee said.

Kenny pushed the gun into Lee's hands and looked away. Lee's breathing began pacing up as he lifted his arm, aligning the pistol with Duck's visage. He didn't take a shot during the first few seconds. Duck was fading out quick, and at one point, he stopped breathing and his eyes closed with delicacy. Lee couldn't help but feeling a bit guilty; he wasn't sure if he had been a bit rough back on the farm to him. The boy who daydreamed about Batman and Robin had solved his last mission.

When Lee fired the gun, it wasn't as loud as he thought it would be. It was just a snap, the smoke muzzle making him close his eyes. The bullet entered through his temple and the tree behind him was splashed with blood. Kenny tightened his fist, mopping a tear from his cheek. Lee peered at the dead boy, who had never failed to lose his joy despite the death and torment around him.

The two men returned to the train without a sound.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: I was planning on having a scene where Hershel gave Duck a final rite, meaning a Catholic final blessing, but removed it because I don't think Katjaa would want to stall. Also, I learned today that the visor of a baseball cap is called a 'bill'! Isn't that wonderful?**


	40. Better Angels

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 40 – Better Angels**

**AUTHOR NOTE: Finally, after such a long wait, I am glad to present you this new chapter! I got a lot of funny reactions from the previous author's note that made my day and I want to thank you all for being so comprehensive. The time that I was inactive brought me some benefits. I had a lot of time to make this chapter improved, I had a lot of time to read and I practiced on my writing a lot, so hopefully that will make for better chapters in the future! Thanks for hearing me ramble and now onward with the chapter!**

** I still don't have internet. I'm uploading this in MacDonald's.**

The train tracks rattled with violence below the locomotive's rapid and smashing velocity, heading towards the horizon and cutting through the lifeless forest. The bogies' wheels caused a concerning racket as pins, axles and springs battered against one another to make the train run.

The racket was so loud that Lee couldn't hear himself think. It was for the better. If he had the ability to get lost in a train of thought, he'd be replaying in his head the moment in which he euthanized Duck, over and over, like a looping disc. And he knew that the more he thought about it, the worst it would be. Lee feared that one day, he would have seen so much death that he would stop caring. That was his biggest fear, becoming those people that were hollow shells, whose only purpose was to hurt others. _Maybe they were normal, kind, happy people once, _Lee thought.

"I can't believe…" Carley said. She stopped, as the words were too big to fit through her throat. "Just a while ago…they were here with us…"

Lee lowered his head, not knowing what to say. What was there to say? Carley wasn't very close to the people they had lost in the past, but seeing a kid dying was the definite proof that the dead didn't discriminate. Carley had nausea. She had to make a great effort not to puke due to the sensation that she was being gutted like a fish. She had to stay strong. Someone else was in a greater suffering.

Carley sighed and massaged her temples for a second. "It's not your fault, Lee. You did the right thing."

"The right thing isn't easy to do sometimes." Lee said in a hoarse voice. His mouth was dry as sandpaper.

"I know." Carley said, her eyes locked on the landscape flying by them. She was afraid to meet his gaze. "Lee…you need to take a break. You're always trying to put things behind you so you can look after the group…you're not superhuman. You need time to grieve. It's not pleasant, but it'll kill you."

Lee kept his head hunkered. He made an almost invisible nod, the tears welling in his eyes. Carley slid her arms around him and pulled him towards her. Lee was exhausted and, for a second, didn't find the strength to return the hug. He bit his lip, to keep the tears at bay. He had a rainy cloud over his head, but his heart was soothed with her touch. "Thank you. I'm glad I have you here with me. "

Carley smiled before she buried her head in his shoulder. She breathed, smelling his essence – a mix of walker blood and sweat. If only she could stay in his embrace forever. "You're a great man, Lee. I just don't want to see you break."

"I need to go talk to Clementine. You'll be okay?"

Carley wiped her teary eyes. "I'll be fine. Given the circumstances."

Lee smirked for a split second. _What did I do to deserve you?_ Lee headed towards the boxcar and entered. It was emptier than the last time he'd seen it; some were lingering in the other wagons since they were numerous people stuffed in there. Lee sat next to Clementine, who swung her legs back and forth off the ledge and stared at the blurred trees; her eyes narrowed and her sad expression hard to decipher.

"You want to talk?" Lee asked.

"Uh-uh." Clementine said, shaking her head. Her tone was similar to a strangled mouse's.

"You, uh, understand what happened?"

"Yes." Clementine asserted with a breath.

"Okay." Lee said. He looked at Clementine, who avoided looking back at him. _What's going on in that little mind of yours? _"What're you thinking about?"

"What Chuck said."

"What'd Chuck say?"

"That what happened to Duck would happen to me." Clementine stuttered, with difficulty in completing the sentence.

Lee's eyebrows stiffened and his lips curved, that familiar, instinctive and flaming rage crisping in his heart. "What? The fuck he did!"

"Swear." Clementine said.

"Sorry. I'm gonna talk some sense into him." Lee said with a calm tone, to not perturb her, but it was clear by his expression that he wanted to punch someone.

"Don't be mad." Clementine whispered, not being able to raise her voice.

Lee hoisted himself up and marched through the train. He crossed some familiar faces but ignored them until he burst into the cab. Kenny was hunched over the controls in the cab, with a depressive vibe. Lee had to talk to him eventually, but not now. At the end, in the railing situated at the tip of the locomotive, was Chuck.

Chuck was leaned over the railing, contemplating the road ahead of them with a smile. He sure loved his travels. Lee folded his arms and stood in a rigid posture, a few steps away from him. Chuck turned to him. "Hey!" Lee said.

"How ya doin'?" Chuck asked, his tone warm.

"I don't care what reasons you had for doing it, no reason to go and tell my girl she's gonna wind up dead!" Lee said, clenching his fists.

Chuck's smile was ripped from his face and his tone dropped like a sandbag to dead-serious. "'Cause she is."

Lee was silent, not sure how to react to what he said. He breathed as regularly as his anger allowed. "I don't know much about you folks, but I can tell you, sure as the sun gon' come up tomorrow, that y'all keep on goin' on like this and that girl ain't gonna make it."

"What do you know?" Lee spat.

"I know that you don't have a goddamn plan. We get to Savannah and then what?"

"We find a boat."

"You think that's a new idea?" Chuck snorted, a mocking chuckle escaping his lips. "You got even the foggiest idea 'bout where you gonna find one of those? Look, sit down with the girl and hash it out. Find a map, for Christ's sake. I'd give you one if I had it. And if something were to happen to you…"

"It won't…" Lee interrupted him, not considering the dreadful possibility. _I'll always be here for her_.

"If it were," Chuck continued, more cautious with his words. "You gotta prepare the girl. Teach her how to use a weapon and for criminy, cut that hair!"

"She's a little girl!" Lee said.

"She'll die like a little girl if you treat her like one." Chuck said, narrowing his eyebrows. "You gotta consider her a living person, that's it. You're either living or you're not. You ain't little, you ain't a girl, you ain't a boy, you ain't strong or smart. You're alive. Look at her hair. You got her runnin' around with a mop that's gonna act like velcro to any hands swingin' its way. Find some scissors in my pack and take care of that hair before a walker does it for you. And then show her how to use a gun, because like it or not, that's what saves your life from here on out. I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but too many people have died already…"

"They have." Lee agreed, his face now softening as the man's words began making sense.

"…and seein' another little girl die might just do me in." Chuck said.

"I hear you. A plan, a haircut and a gun." Lee repeated. "It's good advice."

"It's something." Chuck shrugged.

Lee scratched his head as Chuck went back to admiring the scenery. Lee knew Rick wasn't too fond of strangers and they had a lot of mouths to feed, so it was a mystery if he would be coming with them or not. _Maybe Chuck has an alternative plan._ "Where are you headed?"

Chuck beamed his finger at the train tracks in front of them that were sucked underneath them as the train rolled over them. "That way."

"I mean, when we get to Savannah."

"Got a few ideas." Chuck said, throwing a simper his way. Lee knew that he was aware of what Rick thought of him. "We'll have a talk when we get there about whether or not you folks want company."

"You have any family?" Lee asked.

Chuck shrugged. "Out there, somewhere. Been sorta on my own for the past…fourteen years now."

"Sorry to hear that." Lee said, frowning as he imagined how lonely the man must have been. Cold and dark nights, with only the moon gaping down on him to keep him company. It was almost a surprise that he didn't have a makeshift doll who he called Wilson.

Chuck shrugged once again. Maybe he genuinely was a person who enjoyed solitude or maybe that shrug was just a defensive mechanism to protect him from his emotions. "No one to blame."

"You're homeless then."

"Suppose. Had homes here and there and they just don't work out. I like a drink, you know."

"Yeah." Lee consented.

"Got any?"

"No."

"Darn."

Lee left Chuck to his thoughts. He turned around and entered the cab. Kenny rubbed his wrinkled forehead with his hand as he mumbled to himself. He needed a friend, Lee could see that. "Hey."

"Hey." Kenny murmured, with a groggy voice.. "It'll be good to get to the water."

"You still want to find a boat?" Lee asked, quirking a brow.

"It's the best plan."

"Ken…"

Kenny stabbed him with his tenebrous glare but his voice remained hushed. "It's the best plan."

Lee took a step back, like he was standing in front of a wolf growling at him. The bitterness was drained from Kenny's eyes, making him face the controls once again and release a long sigh.

Lee exited the cab. Otis was standing outside, huddled over the railing. It was all they did nowadays; grieving, which was a constant reminder of all the people they had lost during their vast trip, where it was to the zombies or the living.

**. . .**

In times such as these, it's very easy to define what a zombie is. A zombie is a person that lacks any kind of life, who moans instead of talking, who drags its feet and shuffles along instead of walking and whose eyes are empty. If that is the definition of a zombie, then Otis was a zombie too. Ever since he had lost Patricia, he had to drag his legs along where the group would lead him. The only sign of life within him was the excruciating pain and his constant sobbing. He wanted to drive a bullet through his head, but he lacked the courage to do so. After all, aren't they meant to shoot zombies in the head?

"I'm sorry about Patricia, Otis." Lee said.

"Don't, please." Otis said hoarsely, clearly not interested. His eyes were redden and his skin rather pale. "I don't feel like hearing your well-intended 'I understand you' bullshit."

"I lost a wife too, y'know."

Otis looked at the man with a whole different pair of eyes, his jaw quivering with guilt. "What?"

"When I found her, she was already dead. I had to...bash her head in." Lee said. That memory felt so distant that it was like it was something he read in a book.

Otis's lips trembled and his hands began shaking. "How'd—how'd you get past that…?"

"I didn't isolate myself. That's the worst thing you can do." Lee advised, patting his shoulder. "I focused on those around me, on what I had to do. The more you think about it, the worst it becomes."

Otis nodded. "Thanks, Lee."

All it took was the right speech and a comforting touch to ignite something in Otis' heart. The pain was there and nothing had changed, except that Otis now saw that he had people looking after him, that cared about him. He wasn't alone; he could relate to those people who were merely acquaintances. They were all on the same boat. And perhaps, Patricia was in a better, happier place. Otis was no longer a zombie. He had been reanimated.

**. . .**

Daryl was squatted on top of the engine compartment wagon. The train was like a living beast; it shook with violence to buck him off its back and Daryl could feel the heat of its insides below his feet. He often shot a glance over his shoulder, verifying that his motorcycle was secured by the rope. He had two things in the entire world, his brother – who could be dead or alive, he couldn't know – and his loyal motorcycle, which he couldn't afford to lose.

Sometimes, he remembered how that little freckled kid and his mom had died not too long ago. Everyone was moping about it but Daryl knew he couldn't join that select group. What would his brother say if he saw him weeping about some kid who met his demise? _You're a waste of a man! Even ol' Bertha down the road has bigger balls than yours!_ That would be the most probable thing. And then Merle would justify his words by saying, _Know why I tell you this? 'Cause if I don't, you ain't never gonna man up! _On one side, he was right. Daryl couldn't allow himself to get all teary-eyed.

He had to hide within his inner walls, and never come out.

Daryl was so caught up in his meditation that he almost didn't hear Lee calling him from underneath him. "Hey, Daryl."

"'Sup?" Daryl said, faking a carefree tone.

"What're you doing up there?"

"I'm kicking back, seeing if my bike don't fall off." Daryl said.

"I see." Lee said, looking at the impressive motorcycle. "Why do you like that motorcycle so much?"

"It was my brother's." Daryl said. "When we was kids, he'd sometimes let me drive it around the block."

"Are you okay? I mean, about what happened."

Daryl glanced at Lee; he had just tried to wreck down his walls. "Why with all the questions?"

"I'm just checking in on everyone."

"Then go check on someone else." Daryl hissed.

Lee let out an understanding breath. He knew that Daryl pretended to be tough but he had some personal turmoil causing havoc inside of him. Lee was aware that Carley had told him to take a break, but it was something he just couldn't do. Lee was born to look after others and prioritize those same people over him. No matter what.

**. . .**

Travis wondered if the things he'd witnessed the past three months were real. He had seen the walkers devour his classmates and friends, then bandits raided his school where they were hiding and killed everyone except for him and Ben Paul and their teacher, then they watched as their teacher got caught in a bear trap and was eaten by a pack of deadies. Afterwards, they had the misfortune of ending up with Dave's group that called itself The Living. He saw as Dave bullied women and killed other groups of people to get their supplies. That's stuff you see in fictional movies and videogames, right? But somehow that was now his reality, and sometimes it was like he saw those things through a television screen. He knew that things would never go back to how they were. All he could do was uselessly daydream about the things he would have liked to do; drive a car, get a girlfriend, skydive and bungee-jump – he was a daredevil - and eat a true Italian pizza.

Maybe he could still get a girlfriend. There sure were a lot of damsels in distress in the end of the world. But sometimes Travis wondered if it wasn't better to not get attached to anyone. At least he wouldn't suffer as much when they died.

Lee approached them. Travis saw him through his peripheral vision. "You guys alright?" Lee asked.

Travis shrugged. "I guess."

"So, I suppose you'll be staying with us now?" Lee inquired.

"Yeah, I mean, if you guys don't mind." Ben said.

"Who are you? The group's gonna want to know."

"We were in a band and we all came down from Stone Mountain for the playoffs when—when everything happened." Ben Paul explained.

"Our band teacher, he—he got caught in a bear trap." Travis said. "We—we had to leave him. The walkers got him."

"How are you guys fitting in?"

"I'm not sure that Rick guy likes us around." Travis said.

"Just try not to hold it against him." Lee said. "He's a good man, just hardened."

"And I—I think that the guy in the cab, he blames me for his family's death." Ben Paul said.

Lee frowned in a dazzled expression. "What do you mean?"

"I was there when that walker pinned them down." Ben said. "And I—I didn't do anything…I just froze…"

"Hey, it's not your fault, kid." Lee said.

"Yeah. Listen to him." Travis told Ben, before turning to Lee with a smile. "Otherwise, it's not too bad with you guys. Those two farmer girls are real eye-candy."

Lee grinned. "They're taken, I'm afraid."

"Damn." Travis chuckled. "Just my luck."

Lee entered the boxcar and saw amongst Chuck's affairs a bottle of alcohol. Thinking that he would fancy a drink, Lee picked it up and crossed the train to deliver it to Chuck. "I found this in your pack." Lee said, giving the bottle to him.

Chuck smirked and grabbed the bottle, taking the lid off and taking a sour, long sip. "Damn, didn't realize I had it left. Thank ya. Want a nip?"

Lee wasn't one to drink, considering that he enjoyed having his body functioning at its peak performance, but he could use relaxing for a moment. "Sure." He took the bottle and sipped, the booze singeing his throat. He returned the bottle to Chuck. "Oof."

"Not known for its finish."

"No kidding." Lee said, twisting his lips, the taste seeped into his mouth.

"Anyone in there wanna share a drink, you let 'em know."

"Will do." Lee said, punctuating his phrase with a burning burp.

Lee walked back into the cab. If there was one person he knew needed a drink, was Kenny. "Chuck wanted to know if you needed a drink."

Kenny raised his head. "He got some?"

"Yeah."

An offer he couldn't refuse, Kenny swiveled around in his chair and got up, walking past Lee with his head shrunk between his shoulders. "Yeah, that'd help."

Lee heard the door close behind him as he saw the bin next to the console, containing a map. Lee stretched his arm and grabbed it, and as he unfolded the paper, a refreshing sense of relief coursed him as he saw it was a map of Savannah. He was about to leave the cab when Kenny marched back inside.

"Thanks." Kenny said, slumping in the chair again, making the springs caw.

Lee nodded before he turned to Otis again. "Hey, Otis. Chuck up front asked if you wanted a drink."

Otis grinned. "Hope he has enough to knock me out cold."

Lee squeezed against the wall to let him pass before he returned to the boxcar. He unzipped Chuck's backpack open and fished a pair of scissors from inside. _These look clean enough, _he thought.

"Hey, Clem." Lee said, sitting next to her.

"Did you talk to him?"

"I did, he had some, uh…he explained himself and made some good points. Look, we're not gonna let anything bad happen to you. But there are a few precautions we have to take."

"Okay, yeah, that makes sense." Clementine said.

"Don't worry, sweetheart."

"Okay. What should we do?"

"Well, we're going to figure out a plan for when we get to Savannah, teach you how to protect yourself, and, uh, tidy you up a little bit so you can't get grabbed so easily." Lee enumerated.

"I'd like that." Clementine smiled.

"Good." Lee said. "What do you think about Chuck?"

"I dunno." Clementine said, curving her mouth.

"Me either. He might be an alright guy, though." Lee opinionated. There was no denying that he knew how to say the right things in the right time.

"You think?"

"We'll keep an open mind about him. He's probably had it pretty rough." Lee said, before letting out a long sigh. "What a crappy day."

"The crappiest." Clementine said.

"If three months ago I'd have known what you'd be seein', I don't know if I would've taken you with me." Lee said.

"I probably would've run out of food." Clementine smiled, laughing at her own misery.

"You damn near starved with me."

"I'm glad I came with you." Clementine contradicted.

"So, you're probably not gonna like this."

"Oh no…what happened?"

"Nothing. We have to talk about your hair. It's not safe."

"That's not nice." Clementine said, contracting her facial features to show she was offended.

"What?" Lee blurted out.

"Are you saying it smells?"

"No."

"Because it does, kinda."

"Do you remember when Andy St. John grabbed it? And I got mad?"

"Yeah."

"Well it could happen again. And if it's a walker, well…we need to trim it."

"Just a trim, right?"

"I need to cut it short enough so that it can't get grabbed." Lee said, pulling out of his trousers the pair of scissors. "Mind if we do this now?"

"I guess not."

"Don't mope, it's a good thing."

Lee crouched behind Clementine who was on her knees and started making cuts. Locks of hair fell at his feet. "Do you know how to do this?"

"Nope. No idea." Lee said, much to the girl's terror. "I'm not much of a stylist, you know."

"I'm going to look like a boy."

"But think of how much safer you'll be."

"I'd rather be dead."

Lee shifted to an annoyed expression as he heard those words. "Shush now."

They continued in silence as Lee kept on cutting until he deemed it was good enough. Her giant afro was now reduced to a short, curled tuff of hair with a few loose strings dangling on the back of her neck. "Okay, I think I'm about done. I can probably tie these pieces back with something."

Clementine reached into her pocket and took out two hair strings. "Here, I have these hair thingies."

"You do?" Lee said, a bit unsure on how he was supposed to use those hair strings.

"Uh, yeah. Lilly gave them to me for sleeping."

Lee figured out the trick and tied her hair back in two pigtails. "There, all do."

Clementine touched her hair. From her reaction, it seemed like she didn't even recognize her own hair by touching it. "Does it look dumb?"

"Ha, no, you look cute." Lee said, stroking her hair and putting her hat back on. "And a lot harder to grab." Lee sat back next to Clem, putting the scissors away amongst Chuck's affairs. "You do know we're heading to Savannah, right?"

"Yeah." Clementine nodded with a smile, her hope translated into her gleaming eyes.

"I want to talk about it."

"Me, too."

"And what we're gonna do when we get there." Lee said, reaching for the map and unfolding it, setting it between them. "We don't know what to expect. The city could be bad or totally under control. The thing is, you and I, we're a team, you know? And a team needs a plan. Aside from everyone else, when this train stops you and I should know exactly what we're doing."

"A plan." Clementine said, like if she was seeing how the word sounded in her mouth. "I like it."

"Ha, good. I think we should look for your parents." Lee said, although a tiny bit in the depths of his conscience, he didn't quite believe they would still be alive. But the girl deserved closure. He was lucky to have it, when he saw his parents' bodies in the back alley of that store and bashed in Deborah's skull.

"Really?" Clementine gasped, her smile now stretching from one ear to the other.

"Yeah." Lee said, his smile fading. "You need to know if they're okay. And, well, if they're not, what happened to them."

"I'm sure they're okay."

Lee halted for a moment; he now could see crystal clear that Clementine really believed that. She didn't doubt her words. "Uh, don't get your hopes up too much. Let's look at the map. If we can figure out where they were we can start there." Lee slid his finger through the map. "It looks like we'll come right through town if there's nothing on the tracks to hold us up. Now, we've got a good chunk of Savannah right here. What do you think?"

"They always stay in the same place when they go there." Clementine said. "It's, uh…"

"Hey, don't worry, we'll figure it out. Have you ever been there before?"

"Once."

"Well, think about it—there are a lot of hotels on here, but read this map and maybe it'll jog your memory."

"They've got really tasty desserts." Clementine said. "It's called the M…M something…Mar…"

Lee's eyes fell on a certain location that seemed to fit her description. He pinpointed a rectangle in the map with his finger. "Is this it? The Marsh House?"

Clementine gasped. "Yes, that's it!" She exclaimed.

"So we'll head there." Lee said.

"Yes!"

"You think we have a good plan?" Lee asked.

"I think it's very good." Clementine said, the excitement making her raise her voice occasionally.

"Alright. How are you feeling?"

"Good. Better. I'm glad we have a plan."

"And I'm also going to teach you how to shoot, but we'll do that once we-"

"_Oh shit!_" Kenny's voice echoed through the train. "_Hold on, everybody!_"

**. . .**

Kenny mashed the brakes so hard that he nearly broke the button. The wheels immobilized themselves and the friction pressing against the rails caused a high-pitched screech that almost deafened him. The group wobbled in their positions like bobbing-head figurines before they latched onto something, such as a wall or a railing.

The train stopped. In front of it, there was a bridge that connected two mountains to one another. The bridge was clogged with abandoned cars, but the most remarkable was a rig truck flipped over. The problem was that the rig's tanker – that was full of gasoline, visible by an inflammable warning - was dangling by a thread over the edge and it was just a few meters from touching the ground. Even worse, the tanker was blocking their way and it was impossible to not hit it.

The group hopped off the train, observing in frustration yet another obstacle that was in their way. Kenny was about to explode, visible by his cheeks that were crimson red. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"Maybe we could walk?" Ben Paul said.

Kenny put his hands in his hips, feeling a bit relieved after releasing that weight on his chest. "That's fucking stupid, Ben."

"We can't afford to travel on foot." Rick said. "We won't last long."

"Hmm…" Chuck grumbled, scratching his chin. "I ain't got much experience with y'alls fortitude but we could probably deal with that. We got a goddamn train."

"That thing's not full of milk, Charles." Kenny said, rubbing his temples and letting a sigh escape his lips. "That's gas or diesel, something that's going to explode."

Chuck hissed at his tone. "You gotta get ahold of yourself. This a crew here."

Kenny marched towards Chuck until their faces were almost in contact. "This ain't shit."

"This…"

"Yo, you keep screaming like that, you're gonna get your face chewed off."

The new, unfamiliar voice, caught everyone by surprise. They darted their eyeballs in all directions, but just saw an empty canvas of a dying world. Rick looked up and then saw that there was a couple – a man and a woman – standing on the bridge, looking down at them like they were high, majestic gods.

"Are you guys gonna be trouble?" The woman spoke. "Because we could've just kept walking."

Rick's fingers were slithering towards his revolver but Lee made him a gesture to keep his gun sheathed. "Even if they were hostile, you wouldn't hit them from here." Lee turned to the couple. "Hey, we're friendly!" Kenny was about to raise his hand, but Lee made him a remark between teeth. "Put your hand down, Ken."

"That's what everybody says." The woman said.

"We know."

The man whispered to the girl. "Let's give these guys a break."

"We'll see." She said.

"You guys got a problem with your train?" The man asked.

"Yeah, you're standing right in front of it." Kenny said like a grumpy old man, which he almost was.

"Dude, it's a wreck. It's not so bad from up here. Send your buddy to have a look."

Lee began strolling towards an extended ladder that was butted against the bridge, before Rick placed his hand in front of him. "Anything goes sideways up there, we won't let them escape."

Lee nodded, feeling safer as he had all those people watching his back. Lee placed his hand on the ladder, but hesitated, knowing their past experience with strangers. "If I come up there you better not be murderers or thieves."

"I guess you'll have to find out." The girl said.

With coordination, Lee climbed up the ladder. The whole world appeared to be silent, until he began hearing the couple exchanging shushed whispers. "A group of guys is what we need."

"They're what you think we need. We're doing fine." The woman said.

"For now. What about when…?"

"Stop it."

Lee firmly set his palms on the concrete and leapt onto the bridge. He got on his feet with haste, since he was in a vulnerable position to be attacked. Now that he was closer to those two people, he could see better what they looked like. The man was Persian and had a bright smile beyond his stubble and soul patch, and the woman had tanned skin, dark hair but an austere visage gawking Lee from head to toe.

"Hey, dude. I'm Omid." The man said, beckoning with his hand.

"Lee."

"Christa." The woman said. "What's the deal with the train?"

"We're driving it."

"Oh, man!" Omid gasped with a wide smirk, making Christa roll her eyes and shake her head.

"I'm not gonna bullshit you. Our group is a little fucked up right now." Lee said. "We've lost people and we had to flee from the place we were hiding."

"Oh shit! You guys have a kid!" Omid said.

Lee wondered what he was talking about but when he turned around, he saw Clementine, standing there. He cursed the group, who had, for some reason, thought it was a good idea to send Clementine up there. "What're you doing here?"

"Do you know how long it's been since I've seen a kid?!" Omid said. "Shit! What's your name?"

"Clementine." She said, cowering behind Lee's legs.

"Oh, so he gets to swear?" Lee joked, folding his arms.

"Well, this is great!" Omid said, turning to his girlfriend. "See? Things are looking up."

Christa ignored Omid and gave Lee a tight look. "You're not her dad. He down there?"

"It's that obvious?"

"To me."

"And no, he's not down there."

"Hmm. What's your story?" Christa asked.

"I found Clementine alone when all this shit happened." Lee said, kneeling to her height as he recalled the events that led them to that point. "And we've been together ever since."

"And everyone down there, they're cool?"

Lee nudged his head towards the sheriff and the redneck that were staring at them below with discretion. "Rick's a bit untrusting of strangers, and Kenny lost his wife and kid."

"Man…how long ago?" Omid asked.

"What time is it?"

Omid shrugged. "I dunno. Four?"

"Maybe two hours ago."

"Goddamn…" Christa said with a sad look.

"We're sorry for anything that's happened to you guys…the train is awesome though."

"The tank is your real problem." Christa said. "We'll help you with it, but we see anything we don't like, we're moving on down the road. Alone."

"We'd appreciate the help." Lee said.

"You can't just blast through it, I guess." Omid suggested, although he knew his proposition was bad before he even said it..

Christa sighed and ignored him. "If you could get it down, the rest would be pretty easy."

"We'll start with that." Lee asserted.

"We'll come down and get settled in, and see if we can help." Christa smiled.


	41. Leap Of Faith

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 41 – LEAP OF FAITH**

**AUTHOR NOTE: I'm back. 'Nuff said.**

* * *

Rick watched Lee chatting with Christa and Omid on the top of the bridge, with Clementine accompanying him. Their conversation appeared to be over. Lee approached an abandoned truck at the roadside and opened the back doors, then took something from within it. _What is he doing?_ Just as that thought traversed his mind, they proceeded at walking toward the ladder. Omid was the first person to scale down the ladder. Rick smiled. _Smart move. Let them go first so you won't be caught off guard._ But Christa also had a strategic mind, and insisted that Lee and Clementine went next. _Clever girl._

"Should we take any precautions with these people, Rick?" Andrea asked, her rifle dangling at the edge of her shoulder, ready for a quick grab.

Rick folded his arms, unsure on what to say. "Let's keep an eye on them."

Omid landed on firm land and the three others followed suite. Lee stepped forward, standing beside the two new people. Omid scratched his head, his cheeks blushing. He and his girlfriend had only seen a few survivors in their past travels, but they had never seen a group with almost…thirty people?! Christa, who was the opposite of him in every sense, didn't even shiver as she beheld the wall of humans in front of her.

"Hi." Omid uttered in a strangled voice. The silence was his response. "Not big on welcomes."

"Like I said, it's been a bit of day." Lee said, looking at him with a sympathetic regard.

Omid nodded, before scrutinizing the locomotive with a smile. The first image that pierced his head was those steam-powered trains typical from the era of the Civil War. "The train looks great."

"But we're not looking for charity." Christa said, with a hand in her hip. Rick examined her response with detail; she was asserting her stance, exhibiting a somewhat no-nonsense vibe, a bossy nature and a woman who wasn't fearful of them.

"The plan is to cut that tanker down and be on our way." Rick said.

"Seems like plan enough to me." Kenny said, shrugging.

"You wanna start in on that tanker?" Omid asked.

"I'll get to know the girl a little, if you don't mind." Christa said, looking at Clementine.

"Sounds great." Omid said. "Let's do this thing."

"I'll keep watch on the train." Andrea announced.

Andrea climbed on top of the lateral railing of the train, then hopped on top of the boxcar. Omid followed Kenny into the cab, taking his chances at convincing him to teaching him the controls of the vehicle. Christa and Clementine sat on the ground, as the woman inquired about her life. Chuck rested on a boulder, strumming cords on his guitar. _I'm glad someone's been able to keep their spirit._

Lee approached Ben Paul, who sat on the edge of the train. His face was buried in his palms, his breathing audible. "We… we need someone, anyone, to come along and…and…exterminate them or something."

"No shit." Lee said, but he knew that Ben's desire was far-fetched and something that would never be achieved. "Walkers, man…you know, sometimes you might see me take care of one because I have to, but don't start thinking that they don't horrify me."

"I'm glad someone else feels that way." Ben Paul breathed, a shiver of relief coursing his body. "I'm telling you, Lee, if they ever get a hold of me, and I know I'm not getting out of it, that's it, man. I'm just…gonna punch my own ticket."

"Punch your own ticket?" Lee enquired.

"Yeah, take myself out." Ben explained, letting out all of the words that had remained clogged in his conscience for months.

"Don't be dramatic." Lee said, shooting him a reprehensive gander. "And don't let them get a hold of you."

Lee turned around. The bridge stood mighty in front of him, and in the horizon, between the columns holding the passageway, the train station that was as little was a doll house from that distance, seemed to be waiting for him. _I oughta go check it out. _Maybe he should warn Carley so she wouldn't worry, maybe even bring her with him. If there was anyone who made him feel safe, it was her.

Lee first went to check with Clementine. She and the woman were laughing, so that was a first good point. _But there a lot of people out there who are good with fake smiles. _"Hey, there." Lee greeted.

"That's a pretty useful radio for her to be holding onto, no?" Christa said.

"It's busted, but it means something to her." Lee disclosed.

"Ah, I understand." Christa said, with the empathy in her voice emanating from a past experience.

"Where you from?" Lee asked.

"San Francisco."

"Jeez, a long way from home."

"I blame the one in there." Christa said, referencing Omid. "He wanted the great American road trip."

"He got a little more than he bargained for, uh?" Lee said, aiming at an aimless joke.

"Who the hell is into Civil War history anyway?" Christa asked, narrowing her eyes. "Other than old white guys."

Lee chuckled, before he slowly raised his hand. Christa breathed with a smirk. "Wonderful. You two will be thick as thieves."

Lee looked past his shoulder at the tanker, hanging just a few meters away from him. From time to time, the thread "Not sure how we'll get that tanker down."

"Maybe ask Omid." Christa proposed. "He likes to break things."

Lee looked at Clementine. "You interrogating this woman for us?"

"Yep." Clementine said.

"She set off any alarm bells?"

"Not yet."

"She's very thorough." Christa remarked.

"That's what I like to hear." Lee said. "What were you two arguing about when I was coming up the ladder?"

Christa darted her gaze onto the ground below her, her facial features contracting. A weak point had been touched. "Nothing."

"If you're going to be around for a while it'd be good to know what baggage you got." Lee insisted.

"Then maybe we won't be around for a while." Christa hissed.

Lee spun around, hypothesizing that Carley would be somewhere on the train, maybe the boxcar. He clambered onto the passage located in front of the cab, but halted once a voice reached his ears. "So, do you think Kenny's plan will actually work?"

Lee quirked an eyebrow and looked at Lilly, who was leaned over the railing. "What?"

"It just seems like we're on a goose hunt." Lilly said, her voice in mumbles. "Go to Savannah and find a boat? What are the odds that there are any of those just lying around?"

"I know it's not the most reliable plan." Lee said. "But it's all Kenny can think about it. We can't just pull him away from this."

"He could be putting us all at risk." Lilly said.

"What do you suggest, then?"

"Let's just get away from all this. Go to the countryside, some place isolated where the walkers or bandits wouldn't think to go." Lilly said. "Atlanta was a disaster. Savannah could be the same, or worse."

Lee opened his mouth to talk, but held his tongue back. He flipped his eyes through the floor. _She does make sense._ But what if there truly was a boat? If they didn't find out, they could be missing a phenomenal opportunity, one that would get Clementine to safety. "Okay, Lilly. I'll propose this to Ken."

Lee proceeded inside the cab while Lilly went back to gazing at nothingness. Inside, Omid had his arms crossed over a dashboard, a glint in his eyes as he examined the levers and knobs. Kenny often sighed or rolled his eyes, as if Omid was an annoying cat who was always bothering its owner.

"Nice." Omid murmured, nodding. He beamed his finger towards a button, that had a bright color that caught his eyes. "Hey, what does this button do?"

"I don't know what that does yet." Kenny grumbled. "Don't touch it."

Omid leaned to press the button but Kenny swatted his hand, like Omid's fingers were house flies. "I said don't touch it, jackass."

"Teaching him anything?" Lee asked with a simper.

"Trying to…" Kenny replied, punctuating his phrase with a sigh.

"You like Civil War history, uh?" Lee asked Omid.

"Fuck yeah." Omid responded, springing around as his interest was now focused on the fellow history aficionado. "What do you know about some Quantrill's Raid?"

Lee waved towards the horizon. "It happened about a thousand miles that way."

"Well, yeah!"

"And we're headed the other way." Lee deadpanned, killing the thrill. "But if it's somehow not crawling with the dead, there should be some cool things to see."

"Excellent." Omid said. "Don't tell Christa, though. That won't be as big a selling point for her."

"You got it." Lee said. "Learning the ropes? Can't be too hard, right?"

"There are a lot of levers I can't wait to use." Omid answered. He was like a kid in a candy shop. Well, there was no candy, but he sure had the mentality of a kid.

"Maybe we can drive in shifts?"

"We'll see." Kenny said, albeit it was obvious he was saying that just to shut him up.

"How have you two made it this far?" Lee asked. "You look dangerously normal."

"Christa doesn't let us join groups and I'm a fucking scrapper." Omid explained.

"I got the feeling she takes care of you."

"Please! I've saved her ass hundreds…tens…some times."

"How long since you've been home?" Lee asked.

"Like six months." Omid revealed. "We were on the road for a while, then…you know."

"That's rough."

Omid looked at the ground. His eyelids spanned wide open, as he was hit with a sudden realization. "Our cat's gonna be pissed."

Lee grinned. When Omid widened his eyelids, his eyes appeared to be huge and too big for its orbits. Omid was definitely a humorous guy, and having him around was starting to raise Lee's spirits back up. "Hey, Ken." Lee said. "Are you sure that going to Savannah is really a plan we can rely on?"

"Dammit, Lee, not this again." Kenny seethed. "We're heading to Savannah and that's it."

Lee was silent. _The type of response I expected._ All he wanted was to make sure that nobody else died, but maybe going to Savannah would have its bright side. Clementine would get the chance to get some closure on what happened to her parents.

Lee circled around Omid and strolled through the door onto the middle wagon. Carley was there, leaning against the barrier of metal behind her. "Hey, Carley. What do you think of the new guys?"

"They're alright, I guess." Carley said. "I've seen that Omid has his share of humor."

"Yeah. I thought the same thing." Lee smirked. Carley flashed a smile that vanished in a split second. "Something is bothering you."

"Nothing, it's just…" Carley said, stopping her sentence mid-off. She made a gesture with her gesture, pointing towards the distance. Lee turned his head to what she was pinpointing. Billy and Ben were sitting on the ground, staring at the forest with no reaction, stoical as statues. "There's a lot of people suffering in the world. I mean, adults are one thing…but imagining that kids that age are hurting like this…"

"I feel you." Lee said, curving his eyebrows as he drew a breath. "Those twins worry me."

"I can't imagine what goes through their heads." Carley said.

"Probably nothing good." Lee said. "I'm going to check out that train station. Want to come with me?"

Carley looked at the ground. "I think I'll pass this time around. I'd rather keep an eye on them."

* * *

Clementine's attention was shifted elsewhere when she saw Lee strolling by, heading to that station. Not even letting Christa finish her sentence, Clementine got up and jogged after him. "Can I follow you over there?"

"You don't like the new girl?" Lee asked, despite just being teasing her with kindness.

"Yeah, but it's like we're a team. Like you said."

"Yeah, alright. Come on." Lee said, before shouting in a loud voice. "Clementine and I are checking out this train station, alright? Hustle over if you hear anything."

* * *

"Clementine, remember the reason we cut your hair and I showed that map on the train?" Lee asked.

"Yeah." Clementine nodded. "To keep me safe, right?"

"That's right." Lee assented. "But there is one final precaution we have to take."

Lee slithered his hand into his belt and extracted a Glock. He showed to Clementine. She flinched and brakes at the sight of the object. "First, don't be afraid of it. It's just a thing."

Lee cocked the slide. "But know where your finger is all the time. And don't put it on the trigger unless you want to hurt somebody."

Lee lent the gun to Clementine. The girl picked it up. Her arms were almost made contact with the ground due to the weight. "Okay." She said as she assimilated the information. "Okay."

"See, it's not scary." Lee said.

"It's heavy."

"You'll get stronger." Lee said. "To aim, you look right down the top, through that notch. Line up the end of your sight with your target."

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"When you're ready to shoot, make sure you're not breathing too hard, and then hold your breath right when you pull the trigger." Lee said.

"Like when I'm swimming?" Clementine asked.

"No. Just for a quick second." Lee admonished. "I found that if I did that I was a lot more accurate. It's tough, but it'll help."

"I can do that."

Clementine elevated her arms, doing as taught. She aligned her aim with a paint bucket situated on the train station's platform. Lee inspected her posture. _Her arms are too tight. _Lee corrected it by bending her arms a little. Lee made cusps with his hands and covered her ears. "Don't lock your elbows. We're not going to do shooting practice today, but at least now you know how it works."

Lee took the gun from her and tucked it back in his belt. "But if I see a walker coming towards me…what do I do?" Clementine asked.

"Then you aim for the head." Lee said.

The duo continued marching. The train station seemed to have gone through two timelines; the one from when the world wasn't so broken and the one from the present time. The logos of commercial brands were stamped next to closed shutters, reminiscent of a time where that station was used for shipping products. But the words 'SURVIVORS INSIDE' that were painted on the roof with white paint, along with a bucket of paint cooling in a corner, marked the hardship of people who were, probably, long gone.

Lee doubled a corner. Clementine was twisting the handle on the front door, that didn't open with her interaction. "You should wait for me before trying to open doors."

"Sorry." Clementine said, intertwining her hands at her waist-height.

"Luckily it's locked." Lee observed. "We'll get better at working together."

Clementine nodded and stepped aside. Lee approached the door. Through the window, he perceived that it was boarded up from the other side. He tried the handle, to push it, but both attempts ended in failure. Lee scanned his surroundings, and spotted an open window above the door. "Hmm. The window's open."

"Maybe I can go in?" Clementine proposed.

"Why don't I put you on my shoulder and you can peek into that window up there." Lee said.

"Sounds good."

Lee hoisted her and balanced her on his shoulders. Clementine felt like a giant, and for a second, a glimpse of her standing on her father's shoulders passed through her head. She leaned against the wall and bent over the window, trying to see inside the dark room. "Okay, I can see in, what do I do now?"

"What do you see?"

"Lots of crates and stuff." Clementine said.

"Maybe we can find the key or figure out a way to knock this door down." Lee grinned, while Clementine stretched her arm through the opening. "Kenny'd probably have me pick the lock, which might work now that we have the time…"

There was a clicking sound, forming a smile on Clementine's lips. "I think I opened it."

"For real?!"

"I think so."

Lee put Clementine back on the ground and tried the handle. The door opened. "Well, I'll be damned."

"Let's go." Clementine said. "Be careful."

"I'm supposed to tell you that."

They entered the room that was plunged in penumbra. "Damn, it's dark in here."

"Maybe I can hold the door open?" Clementine suggested.

"I don't like that." Lee said, because it wouldn't be very practical. "I'll prop it open with something."

Lee headed towards the door and opened it, then jammed his spanner below it to keep it open. The natural light bathed the room. The small room had a few crates scattered around, that Lee had no intention of finding out if they were empty or had some worthless junk in them. There was an interior fence, with a gate that led to a storage area, comporting rows of shelves full of tools. And a blowtorch.

Lee headed toward the gate and spun the handle. _Nothing._ He sighed. Why did everything had to be locked? Lee checked the bars of the fence, but they were too near each other for Clementine to slide in between. He raised his head. There was a gap, large enough for the girl. _Eureka._ ~

"There's a little space at the top." Lee said.

"We're lucky I'm so little." Clementine smiled, strolling towards Lee.

"You okay going over the top of this fence?"

"Yeah, definitely."

Lee grabbed Clementine once again and put her on his shoulders. The girl wriggled through the slot onto the other side, at a lackadaisical pace so she wouldn't fall on her face. She passed one leg at a time, then jumped onto the ground with a smooth impact. "Go on and grab the keys, Clem."

Clementine nodded. She remained still, frozen. _Why isn't she moving? _"C'mon, scoot."

That was the moment in which Lee noticed that Clementine wasn't staring at him, rather at something behind him. Her eyes were shining and she curled her arms against her chest, her knees buckling. "Behind you!"

Lee rotated so fast that he heard his neck bones crack. A walker, bearing train employee garments that was formerly dormant in the shadows, lunged at him. Lee whipped out his gun, but was blocked when his peripheral vision warned him a second walker, similar to the first, that ambushed him.

The second lurker's claws struck Lee on his left shoulder. His fingers gave in and the gun slipped from his hand like sand, then slid to the other side of the fence, to Clementine.

Lee pushed the zombie away and backed off, procuring a weapon. He remembered the spanner underneath the door and recoiled, kneeling quickly to retrieve it. He had about seven seconds before he would once again be immersed in darkness. He neutralized the first walker with two blows, but the other one got too close and forced Lee to keep it away using his hands.

Clementine stared at the gun, her mind split into two. _Should I grab it?! Should I leave it?! _The only training she ever had was a few minutes ago and she had never fired before. She peeked at Lee. One of the zombies was dead, but the second one was close to him. Very close to him. Clementine reached for the gun, but it was useless. Lee shoved the walker away and managed to deliver it a blow that yanked its jaw out, and then a final one that made a dent in its skull and made it drop on the floor.

Lee panted, before he noticed Clementine had the gun within her hands, trembling. "It's okay, it's okay. Everything's fine."

Clementine lowered her hands, taking a deep breath. Lee was about to take the pistol from her when a figure shambled from the shadows, beyond the fence. Lee looked towards the corner and saw another biter, heading straight for Clementine. "Keys! Now!"

Clementine sprang around and got the keys from a hanging panel, and slid them to Lee. Lee opened the door and took the gun from Clem's hand, then fired a single round into the walker's eye socket. It fell heavy on the floor, with a pool of black blood spilling under its head. "God…damn…"

"That didn't go so good." Clementine said, her tone shaped by the panic she tried to soothe.

"No, it did not go so good." Lee said. "But we're okay. Everything's okay."

The authority of Christa's voice was heard outside. "What's going on? I thought I heard a gunshot."

"We're fine." Lee shouted.

Christa opened the door and entered, eyeing the fallen cadavers on the ground. Lee scratched his head. "We found some walkers."

"You and an eight year old versus three of them?" Christa enquired.

"We handled it."

"Yeah, it looks like. What if you hadn't?" Christa said. "I'm gonna make sure the noise didn't cause us any problems."

"That's a good idea." Clementine said.

Christa smiled at her before departing. She stopped before reaching the door, and glared at Lee past her shoulder for a split second. "I hope you know what you're doing with her."

"We're still alive, aren't we?"

"Yes, you are." Christa said, before leaving.

Lee went back to the storage area. He tiptoed past the corpse and hauled the blowtorch outside. "We got it."

"Let's go outside now." Clementine said.

"What did we learn?" Lee asked.

"I'm not ready for a gun."

"No, Clem." Lee said. "We learned that everything we will ever do is dangerous. We'll get better, smarter, faster. Okay?"

Lee and Clementine left the station and returned to the train.

* * *

Lee and Clementine stopped in front of the locomotive as Omid, Rick and Kenny came meet them by the front driving cab. "I found a blowtorch in the station." Lee told them. "Should make quick work of the coupling up there."

"Excellent." Omid said, while hopping off the train. "I'll come up there with you to have a look."

Lee and Omid scurried to the top of the bridge. Lee set the blowtorch on the ground, next to the edge where the tanker was dangling off. He grabbed the hose and turned on the blowtorch. He heard the hiss of the flammable gas, but there was no flame. "Shit."

"What's up?" Omid asked.

"The hose has a leak in it." Lee said.

"Turn it off, dude!" Omid exclaimed, shaking his palms in the air as if in to repel the gas. "I—I don't want my eyebrows burned off!"

Lee obeyed, much to Omid's relief. "Better plug that leak with something."

Lee withdrew the duct tape he'd salvage earlier from his pocket and wrapped a lengthy amount around the hole. He tore a strap using his bare teethg. "Hope this holds."

Lee turned it on, and this time there was a flame. Lee approached the coupling and used the fire blade to cut it. Sparks began flying everywhere, making him shut his eyes and look away from the bright light.

"Look at it go!" Omid said.

"Just about got it." Lee grumbled.

Omid watched the fire with awe, but the destructive action made the truck budge forward, like it was about to collapse off the bridge, while menacing to throw Lee off the bridge. Omid dashed forward, grasped Lee and jerked him back. The two men fell on their rears as the truck was dragged closer to the edge. The tanker was looser, mere millimeters from the ground below, but the rig vehicle was now more distant and out of their reach.

"Whoa, thanks." Lee gasped. His heart was racing; for a moment, it was almost over for him.

"No sweat, man." Omid said.

"This thing's hanging by a thread." Lee said. "The smallest cut and it will go." Lee grabbed the hose and lent it to Omid. "Here. The weak portion of the coupling is out of my reach."

"You think it'll be within mine?"

Lee chuckled, with a hint of sadism. "No. But I'm gonna dangle you over that ledge."

"The hell you are!" Omid protested.

Omid eventually agreed, and the next second, he was leaning off the edge with Lee holding him by his wrist. Omid pointed the blowtorch at the hitch and began slicing. He was nearly blind because he could see what he was doing. "You're a real son of a bitch, you know that!"

"Shut up and start cutting." Lee said.

Andrea heard a noise reaching her ears. A particular one. She looked in the distance. An endless horde of shuffling walkers, a mist of genders, heights and decay. She reached for her rifle and looked down the scoped. There were thousands. They weren't a sea. They were an ocean. "Guys! They're coming!"

Omid and Lee opened a crack in their eyelids. They were met with the image of a wave of walkers as far as the eye could see. "What the what!" Omid hollered.

"There must be thousands…" Lee mumbled.

Andrea slung her rifle on her spine, then sprinted across the ceiling of the boxcar. "We gotta go!"

"Fuck, Omid!" Lee said. "Cut! Cut!"

"I am!" Omid said. "It's going! Pull me up!"

The tanker fell on the ground with a thud that made the ground shake. The metal support of the tanker creaked, before it tilted sideways. Rick's heart was beating out of his heart, since the impact could cause an explosion or soak the grass in gasoline. _Please don't let it explode. _The tanker scraped against the bridge with a deafening screech then smashed the ladder, tearing it away from its hinges. Rick knew that Lee and Omid didn't have a way to get out of that bridge, but they had to go. The only thing he could pray for was that they would jump. "Kenny, go!" Lee yelled.

Kenny didn't hesitate to start the engine as the group leapt onto the train. The locomotive moved in baby steps, passing underneath the bridge. Lee and Omid jogged to the other end of the bridge and passed their legs over the barrier. They sat on the barrier, as the tip of the train became visible meters underneath them. "We gotta jump!"

"What?! No way!" Omid said.

"Jump!"

"No!"

"Jump, dammit!"

"Still no!"

"Fine."

Lee expelled the air from his lungs. His respiration stopped. _Do or die. _Lee let go of the barrier and leapt through the air. Maybe if he went first, Omid would go next. People say that during moments of great adrenaline, such as that one, time slowed down. But it wasn't true. Lee landed on the ceiling with a sore impact in a matter of seconds, yet no serious damage was dealt. Omid jumped next. But everything went wrong, from the moment that he let out a chilling scream when he landed, from the moment that the impact made him dive off the train onto the ground.

"Shit!" Christa said. She hopped off the wagon and rushed towards her boyfriend.

Lee descended onto the boxcar. He dropped on the floor, the adrenaline rush flowing in his veins like a drug. Carley burst into the boxcar and kneeled next to Lee. "Lee! Lee! Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Lee said as he got up. "We gotta help Omid and Christa!"

Lee gaped outside the train. Omid was half-limping, half-running to catch up with the train while Christa raced alongside the wagon like she was on a marathon. Lee swung his arm in Omid's direction and heaved him onto the train, while Carley wrung Christa in her direction.

The four survivors slumped on the ground in lying positions, catching their breath with a loud respiration. "Baby…" Omid said.

"I'm okay, honey, it's okay." Christa panted. "That…was…a lot of them…"

Clementine entered the boxcar. "Are you hurt…?"

"No, we're okay." Lee said.

"Speak for yourself! My leg is fucked!" Omid spat.

"We're fine, Clementine. We're fine." Christa said. The silence dominated in the boxcar, as the horde vanished behind them and the train accelerated down the long road ahead of them.

* * *

The end of the day neared itself with a lilac sky. Lee was in the cab and smiled as he saw the outline of Savannah appearing in the horizon. _We're here. _Too bad Clementine was absent to witness their arrival. The infant angel was slumbering in a chair. Lee knew for sure any girl would be tired after such a day. He looked at her, rambling in his thoughts, when he spotted a drawing poking out of her backpack. Lee tried to shift his gaze elsewhere, but the curiosity was like an itch in his body needing scratching.

Lee bent over and grabbed the drawing. It was very cartoonish and raw, as one would expect from a kid's art, but it was easily recognizable as Kenny, Katjaa and Duck, all holding hands. Kenny came in the cab and Lee put it away, dreading that he'd see it.

"Next stop, the Atlantic." Kenny said.

Lee got up and stared at the horizon. "We're finding Clementine's parents when we get there."

"I thought they were dead." Kenny said with a cold tone, not bothered whether or not Clementine could hear him or not.

"Looking for them, then."

"That's not the plan."

"Well, it's ours. She and I talked it through." Lee said, followed by a long sigh. "You'll never get over today."

Kenny looked in the opposite direction. "That's all I keep thinking."

"Try to think about what's ahead of you." Lee said.

"That's why I keep thinking it."

"I'll leave you to your thoughts." Lee said, before he shifted his gaze towards Clementine. "She's out could like I've never seen."

Lee was caught off guard when the walkie-talkie in her backpack buzzed. Lee picked it up, his brain making an effort to put together a rational conclusion but couldn't find one. A crispy voice was heard on the other end. "_H…H…ell…Hello…o…_"

"What the…?" Lee whispered.

"_Can't wait for you to get to Savannah, Clementine. I've got your parents right here, and you be sure to find me whether Lee wants you to or not. Now, what I need-_"

A sizzling sound terminated the conversation due to the poor signal he received. Lee's reality had been crushed. Clementine told him that the device was broken back on the farm but now he learned that it was indeed working. And judging from the context of the message, Clementine had talked to this man before. Lee shivered, imagining Clementine conspiring with a total stranger every night in secret. _What have you done, Clementine?_

"Holy shit…!" Lee stuttered.

"I thought that fucking thing was broken." Kenny said, wiggling his brows.

"So did I…! Who the fuck was that?! If he's convinced Clementine he has her parents…"

Kenny stiffened his posture. "Y'all might want to rethink your plan."

Those words floated in the air as Lee clenched the radio in his fist. He gazed towards the horizon. He was now seeing Savannah in a whole fresh pair of eyes. He had underestimated Clementine. How she was too smart for her age, yet too naïve to know what truly awaited her in that doomed city.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: Since I deleted the author note (since it wasn't really a chapter), you might not be able to review in case you already did before. If you have a comment on this chapter, just write in on the next chapter. **


	42. The Bell Tolls For Thee

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 42 – THE BELL TOLLS FOR THEE**

**AUTHOR NOTE: If you notice that this chapter was skipped some time forward, it might be because you haven't read the previous chapter. Yeah, you should probably go read Chapter 41. It'll make more sense. I've decide to upload two chapters in a row, cause you guys have earned it.**

It was surprising how the universe adapted to its changing conditions. Ever since the end of the world, the busy rich district of Savannah had died down too and was now a ghost town. Each block comported fenced multi-story mansions, with elegant wooden structures, beige painting and broad windows, but their owners were long gone. The town was stained in colors of dark green and grey, with a sad sky gawking down of them. The world was adapting to the chaos, and the tone of sepia was in unison with it.

The group marched down the vacant road, admiring the deserted streets. They weren't really admiring, after all it wasn't a joyful image, they were contemplating that hollow place that used to be full of life.

Kenny led the group, because he was the fastest one to walk. He wanted to sprint until he was at the river, but with Omid and Travis he had to march in harmony with the others. His mind was set on finding a boat, and with each step that neared him to the harbor, the bigger his excitement grew. That boat was everything in his world now. That specific goal he was working towards was the only thing was kept him sane, that allowed him to suppress his family's death for a little while. If he could focus on the mission, he wouldn't focus on the excruciating pain within.

Omid limped and whenever he spotted a wrecked car, or a brick wall, he leaned against it to aid him in his walking. Travis was in a similar situation as him and sometimes his leg almost gave in and menaced to make him fall. The group darted glances in all directions to make sure that there weren't any walkers waiting to ambush them. A latent sensation of anticipation dwelled in their spines. The first sight of a walker and they would be prepared.

The silence was absolute, except for the sound of their footing. Even the wind seemed to be silent in that God-forsaken place. Carley had a bad feeling about that eerie town. Using her observant eyes – that she formerly used to piece together the best news scoops – she noticed that all of the vehicles they came across had been stripped to the bone from any useful parts and that most doors were tagged with a military insignia, containing numbers. She tried to figure out what they meant but couldn't find a logical explanation.

"It seems like the army passed through here." Carley said, indicating the insignia using her gaze.

Lee turned his head towards the tagging. "I've never seen something like that."

"What do you think those numbers stand for?" Carley asked, sliding a hair streak behind her ear. Lee couldn't avoid being distracted staring at her movements. She had that power over him, she managed to introduce Lee into a trance with such a simple action.

"I'm not sure." Lee finally said.

Clementine gaped at her walkie-talkie. Lee had found out about her little secret the day before, and whether it was a punishment or a precaution, he had confiscated it and kept it strapped on his belt. Lee knew that her eyes were set on the radio, but he had to be firm. He couldn't give in to her demands.

"Can't I just hold it?" Clementine asked.

"Not now." Lee said. "I need you to focus. Keep your eyes on the street."

Clementine's heart was squashed with that answer and she felt a lump in her throat. She lowered her head. "Okay. Sorry."

Lee inspected his surroundings. They were now passing by a tall church that made them look like ants. He turned his gaze towards Christa. "How's Omid?"

"His leg's pretty bad." Christa said, her eyebrows arched from the constant worry over her boyfriend.

Omid narrowed his eyebrows and tried to straighten his posture to walk like a normal person. "I'm fine!"

Christa glared back at him like a mom reprehending her son. "You're not fine! You need to rest. He needs to rest."

"Yeah, you're right." Lee said, making the entire group stop where they stood. "Kenny, hold up."

Kenny kept walking with a careless demeanor and was determined in not halting. Lee took a step forward. "Kenny, goddammit, I said hold up!"

Kenny stopped and rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh of exasperation. "Omid needs to take a break! Let's give him a minute."

Kenny spun around on his heels. "We're almost to the river, almost to the boats! Wanna get on a boat or wait around 'til the walkers figure out we're here?!"

"It won't hurt to stop for just a damn minute." Dale said.

Kenny's upper lip twitched, before he sprang around and continued his stroll towards the river. But when a church bell echoed through the entire town, Kenny braked at the loud noise. "What the hell…?!" T-Dog sputtered.

Rick raised his eyes towards the bell tower on the church located by their side. The bell was swinging back and forth, just like he suspected. Daryl readied his crossbow, and began wondering whether they were the predator or the prey.

"Maybe this city's not so dead after all." Christa said austerely.

Kenny let out a sigh, but this one was heavier and louder. "Keep moving. No one's ringing that bell. It's automatic. On a timer."

Rick pulled his sleeve up and checked his watch. "What kind of church bell goes off at twenty past the hour?"

The question remained with no answer as Rick looked back towards the bell tower. In a quick flash, he saw a person running on the roof, but the next second, he or she was gone. "Someone's up there!"

The group rose their heads towards the bell tower. There wasn't anyone up there. "Are you sure? I don't see anything." Ben Paul said.

"I know what I saw!" Rick said. "I'm telling you, there's someone up there on that bell tower! Someone alive!"

"If Rick says he saw something, it's because he did." Lee said.

His phrase was punctuated when the radio in his belt sizzled. With a quick reflex, Lee grabbed it and held it close to his face, to hear what the other person was going to say. Lee drew a breath; he couldn't wait to exchange some words with this stranger. "_If I were you, I'd get out of the street, now._"

"I thought you said that thing didn't work!" Christa remarked, perplexed to see that the walkie-talkie was functional despite being told otherwise. _Dammit, we shouldn't have come with these people. _What was she thinking? People keep secrets, and secrets kill people.

Lee shot her a sharp glance before he directed himself towards the man. "Who the hell is this?!" Static. "Hello?! Hello?! I said answer me!"

There was a prolonged silence. Clementine knew who that person was and sank her head between her shoulders in shame. Rick examined every alleyway, every window and every hiding spot visible in the town. He didn't find a single person around.

"What the hell was that?" Omid asked. "Is someone trying to fuck with us?"

"Sounded more like a warning." Travis said, with a sinister tone dwelling in his words.

"Sounded more like somebody is stalking us." Glenn added.

Chuck had his fingers wrapped around a shovel that laid on his shoulder. Chuck glimpsed past his shoulder and stiffened with what he saw. "Ask not for whom the bell tolls…"

Kenny sighed and spun towards the elderly man. _Why does this old coot have to talk in goddamned riddles_?, he thought. "What're you yammerin' on about?"

"…it tolls for thee…"

One by one, they turned around and were petrified with the horrific sight that they were gawking at. The noise of the bell had brought a dense and immense horde of walkers on top of them, like flies attracted to a turd or paparazzi to a famous celebrity. There were fifty and counting, investing from all directions, flooding from every boulevard, and threatening to corner them.

The adrenaline kicked in and flowed through Rick's veins. "Everybody, run!"

The latent anticipation in their spines released a stimulation through their bodies. They ran down the street. Kenny raised his pistol and controlled his wobble caused from the jogging, before firing a precise shot on the forehead of a Save-Lots lurker standing in his way. It slumped on the ground and he ran past its decaying corpse.

Chuck threw a walker onto the concrete with a swoop of his shovel while Christa shot another in through the eyes. The thuds of their bodies tumbling on the ground, the blows of their weapons and the gunpowder roaring resounded in the air. As they advanced through the street, they had to stop often to clear the path of biters using their weaponry and then proceed. Lee made a brief pause to make sure Clementine was by his side and to give her a reassuring nod.

Rick and Carl shot walkers as they moved with deadeye accuracy with Lori protected behind them. Rick felt proud that his son was such a good shot, it would be an indispensable skill to have.

He was tugged away from his thoughts when his sleeve was grabbed by five grey fingers. Rick used his free hand to grab the biter's skull and push it, but it wasn't letting go. Just as he was beginning to think that he might have been living the last day of his life, a revolver fired a deafening shot that tore the walker's head, blinding Rick with its blood squirt. Only then did Carl and Lori halt and notice what had happened. Rick tossed the dead body onto the ground and saw that it was Carol who saved him, who had Sophia hidden behind her.

"Damn. Who taught you to shoot?" Rick asked.

"T-Dog." Carol said.

Rick grinned. "No shit."

Like if a rug had been pulled from underneath his feet, an invisible force yanked Kenny onto the ground, who fell on the road face-planted. He raised his head and glanced behind him. A walker trapped underneath a car had its grip latched onto his ankle. His gun had flown across the sidewalk. He noticed a street sign and grasped it, then hoisted himself towards his gun. He stretched his fingers until his articulations were burning but he couldn't reach it.

"Kenny!" Lee shouted.

Lee took aim and terminated the walker with a single shot. Kenny got onto a sitting position and recovered his gun, panting from the close encounter. "Little too close, don't you think?"

Lee nodded, but his attention was caught when his ears were pierced by Clementine's shriek. Lee turned around and saw that a herd of dozen walkers – that appeared to have turned a while ago due to their grey skin – were surrounding her and Ben Paul, closing in for the kill like a pack of coyotes.

"Ben, help her!" Carley ordered.

Ben didn't listen to him. Two of the lurkers distanced themselves from one another, providing an open window for an escape. Ben shook his head, he was chickening out but he just couldn't be brave, when death was beckoning. With staggering legs, Ben took the opportunity and fled onto safety, running away from Clementine, wishing that he could run away from his cowardice.

"Ben! Goddammit!" Lee hollered, brandishing his pistol.

The notion that his daughter was in danger gave Lee almost supernatural accuracy to shoot each of the beasts, that dropped one by one like bowling pins. Carley helped him take down half of them, but when there was only one zombie left, they both pressed their triggers but only heard a click.

The walker lunged for the girl, and she covered her eyes; a desperate attempt to evade the pain that was about to come. Lee grinded his teeth; it was like he was witnessing this event through a television screen, and he was helpless to do anything. "No!"

The shuffling walker was about to stuff his face with a delicious buffet, but a fist came down with potency down on its cheekbone, throwing it on the ground like a ragdoll. Lee swore that he had heard the crunch of a bone breaking. It was Otis. His knuckles were crimson red, but he insisted. Instead of using punches, he started kicking the walker throughout its limbs and torso. The walker didn't feel a thing, but it stayed on the ground and released empty moans.

Clementine ran towards Lee and the two shared a hug in which, for a second, made them forget about the chaos surrounding them. Lee got up and fixated his gaze on Otis. "Get her the hell out of here!" Otis said. "I'll catch up with you."

Lee stared at him in hesitation. He knew that this was the last time that he would ever see the man. As more walkers huddled around him, Otis gave him a nod, but it seemed more like a farewell. In words, it seemed like he was saying, _Thank you. Goodbye._

Lee had a more important thing to handle. He clenched Clementine's hand and the two fled the scene, joining Carley and leaving Otis battling an unwinnable battle against the herd. Kenny stopped in the street, allowing them to regroup and catch a breath. "Move your asses! River Street's right up ahead."

"That's not all!" Daryl said.

Another mob of monsters appeared from another avenue, a mix of grocery store workers along with a policeman, walling them in and preventing them from continuing. They didn't have enough bullets to bulldoze through them. Kenny kicked the ground and sent a punch into the air. "Oh, give me a fucking break!"

Jimmy flicked his eyes through the group and noticed that there was someone missing. It took him a few seconds until he realized who it was. "Wait, where the hell's Otis?"

The yell of the ginger man made them turn around. Otis was fighting with vigor, sending punches that shred his knuckles muscle-deep. He backed up until his back was touching the brick wall, as the walkers didn't allow him to flee. Well, he didn't want to flee. His warrior expression didn't budge.

"Shit, he's in trouble!" Glenn said, raising his gun, preparing to go save the man. "We gotta help him!"

"There's no time!" Kenny said, with no preoccupation in his voice. "We gotta go!"

"We don't leave our own behind!" Hershel said with conviction.

"I'll be fine! Just go!" Otis hooted.

"Otis is right." Rick said. "Let's do how he says. We won't make it past this horde! We have to go, now!"

There was no other choice. Rick scanned the nearby households and fixed his gaze on an alley that led onto the gate of the backyard of a mansion. They would be camouflaged by the brick walls, the gate, the barred fences and the house itself, and if they could find a way inside, they would have a fantastic hideout. "Through here!"

With Rick's order, they dashed into that alleyway, Otis becoming less audible by the second. Kenny rushed towards the gate and opened it for them. "I'll get the door!"

Omid couldn't take the weight in his legs and fell on the pavement with a considerable impact as the survivors dispersed around the yard. Lee peeked down at the fallen Omid. "You okay?"

Omid winced and Christa kneeled beside him, inspecting his injury. "You've opened up your wound, you're bleeding! Shit, that's gonna get infected. We've gotta get him inside, get him cleaned up!"

Lee nodded and saw the redneck running his hands through the door. "Kenny, how's that door going?"

"I'm working on it! I'm working on it!" Kenny growled.

"Well work faster, would you?" Christa said in a grubby tone. "You know they can smell blood!"

"Lady, I ain't the one who's bleedin'." Kenny hissed, making Christa narrow her gaze.

"Shut it, the both of you!" Rick said, in his authoritarian voice that almost made Clementine shiver. "You're gonna get their attention down on us. We'll find a way in. No need to panic."

The mansion was a rather impressing building. It was a two-story mansion, it didn't take too much intelligence to see that the family inhabiting it was wealthy. The windows were all boarded up and didn't allow a peek inside. The back door was also barricaded and was locked. 

Rick patted Carl's hat. "That was some nice shooting out there, son."

Carl simpered. "I know, right? They were dropping like flies."

Lori folded her arms and grimaced. There was too much joy in his voice, he shouldn't be smiling. "Dammit, Carl. You shouldn't be happy. It's not a thing worth being proud about, or gloating."

Rick stiffened. "Lori, it's a messed up world. You should be glad our son knows how to defend himself."

Lori sighed and shifted her gaze elsewhere. "Just think about the morals our son will grow up with."

Rick could feel that she was uneasy, the feeling that couples get. One suffers, so does the other. He neared himself, and saw tears streaming down her face. _Excess hormones from the pregnancy, _he thought. But Lori was serious. Lori pushed him away. "No…just…just leave me alone."

Rick stood there, beside Carl, like an abandoned dog under the rain.

**. . .**

"Ben?" Lee called.

"Yeah?" He said.

"About what happened back there on the street…" Lee said.

"I know." Ben said as he blushed and lowered his head. His arms were heavy like anvils. "I don't know what happened. I just…froze up. Hasn't that ever happened to you?"

"Just hear what I'm saying. You put that girl in danger again and it won't be the walkers you'll have to worry about." Lee menaced with a suave yet threatening tone, adding a sharp glare for good measure.

"I hear you."

Lee loosened up. "Think we can get in through one of these windows?"

"Man, I don't think so." Ben Paul said, beaming his finger towards the barricaded windows. "Whoever owned this place had them all barred up."

"Yeah. Looks pretty solid." Lee said. "How do you think Kenny's holding up?"

"I don't know." Ben Paul said, his voice diminishing to whispers. "It's like all he can think about is finding a boat. He definitely doesn't want to talk about Katjaa and Duck. At least not with me."

"Maybe we should just let him deal with it his own way."

Ben Paul nodded. "Alright."

Lee departed and went to talk with Kenny, since he was curious if they could get in through the door. "How's it coming? We find a way in yet?"

"Door's locked up tight." Kenny said. "Too heavy to force without making a whole lot of noise."

"Maybe there's a better way in."

"Well, if there is, I ain't seeing it."

"You think someone's still inside?" Lee asked.

"Nah, we'd have heard from 'em with all the racket we're making." Kenny said. "But whoever was here did a pretty good job fortifying it. Nice place to hole up. If we can just figure out how to get in."

"How you holding up, man?" Lee asked, changing the subject.

"Lee, I appreciate the interest, but I don't think talking about my feelings right now is gonna help us get inside this house."

"I'll have a look around."

Lee turned around. Clementine was standing by the gate. Lee didn't like that she was so exposed by that gate, so he sauntered towards her.

"Do you think the dead people saw us come in here?" Clementine asked. "Are they going to find us?"

"Try not to worry." Lee said. "Even if they saw us, they can't get in here."

"We did. Why can't they?"

"We're a lot smarter than they are. They're just like dumb animals, they can't open doors."

"I used to have a pet hamster." Clementine said. "One night he figured out how to open the door to his cage, and when we woke up he'd eaten half a box of cookies."

Lee frowned. "I don't think this is quite the same, Clem."

"Yeah, right. This time, we're the cookies."

"Just stay away from the gate. I'm gonna see about getting us inside the house."

Clementine nodded. She went to sit next to Omid and Christa. Lee followed after her. Seeing Omid's injury reminded him when everything had started, when he had a stab wound in his abdomen.

"How's he holding up?" Lee asked.

"I'm fine." Omid said.

"You're not fine." Christa replied. "You've re-opened your wound, you're losing blood and God knows what might've gotten in there. It could be infected, it could be-"

"No offense, but you really need to work on your bedside manner."

"She's just worried about you, man." Lee said. "Don't worry, we're gonna get you fixed up in no time, just as soon as we're inside. Okay?"

Omid nodded. "Okay. Thanks, man."

"Please go and help Kenny." Christa said. "We need to get him inside now!"

"I'm on it, just sit tight."

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere." Omid quipped.

Lee inspected the back door, searching for a secondary way in. There was none, except for a doggie door. It wasn't big and there wouldn't be an adult that could fit through there, but he doubted that it would be locked. "What's this? Looks like there's some kind of pet door here."

"I tried it already." Ben Paul said. "That's locked too."

"Who the hell ever heard of a locked doggie door?" Kenny enquired.

"I have." Omid said. "My neighbor had one just like that. It's radio-controlled, the dog wears a collar with a chip in it so the door only opens when the dog gets close to it."

Kenny chuckled. "Well, shit. Everyday's a school day."

"Alright, so…where's the dog?" Travis asked.

Lee swept the yard with his eyes. In the corner, he saw a dog's house, and next to it, a grave with a wooden cross buried next to it. _Long shot. _But it could work. Lee grabbed a shovel that was stored next to the shed, and headed towards the grave. He was about to dig out the first handful of dirt, when Omid's voice intercepted him.

"Hey, be careful man." Omid said. "Digging up dead things isn't what it used to be, know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I hear you." Lee mumbled. He continued shoveling out the dirt.

"What's buried down there?" Carl asked.

"I dunno, son." Rick said.

"Dammit, come here, Carl." Lori said, hiding her son's eyes with her shoulder.

Lee tossed away another amount of dirt, but when his gaze fell upon the grave again, he saw a hunk of meat sticking out of the mud. The dirt was drawing the contours of a dog figure. "Whatever it is, it's been here a while." Lee said.

"Ew! I can smell it from here." Clementine said. "Gross!"

"Clementine, honey, come sit with Omid and me. Let Lee work." Christa said.

Lee kept at it until there was a discernible hole on the ground. There was a dog, alright. But its fur was long gone, its skeleton was showing and it barely had any flesh on it, most of it had been devoured by maggots and larvae. Around its neck – or rather, the vertebrae of its neck – there was a collar.

Travis recoiled with a few steps. "God, the smell…!"

Lee got on his knees and approached the carcass. _Must've belonged to someone. _Lee picked up the collar with a grimace. He pulled it back but it was stuck. "Ugh, I can't get it off."

Lee was about to unstrap the collar from around its neck, but the solution came when the dog's head fell off, with a sickening snap. The group let out a disgusted groan in synchronization, as they backed away from the carcass.

"Okay, that is not cool!" Doug said.

Christa gagged and vomited into the nearby bushes. "Are you okay?" Clementine asked.

Christa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm fine, honey. It's just the smell."

Omid frowned. "Are you sure you're-"

"I said I'm fine, okay?"

Lee walked to the door and dangled the collar next to the dog door. "Here goes nothing."

A green light lit on top of the door and a clicking sound was heard.

"Yes! Goddamn!" Kenny shouted. Too loud. "You see anything in there?"

Lee kneeled and had to bend to look inside. The door was too big for him to crawl through. "No. Looks like it's been empty a while."

"Whatever you're going to do, do it fast." Christa said, as she heard the zombies' moaning intensify.

"Okay, let me see if I can reach up in there."

"Be careful, man." Ben Paul said.

Lee elongated his arm but the rest of his body impeded him from stretching any further. "Ugh, it's no good. I can't reach it."

Sophia watched as Lee extracted his arm from the chasm of the door. She recalled when her mother had saved Rick from that walker. It had been such an exciting moment! Her mother was always reserved and kept to herself under the reign of that bastard she had the misfortune to call 'dad', but with each passing day, her mother was becoming more fearless, braver. Like a superhero! The kind of hero that Duck used to ramble on about for hours. It was her time to be a hero.

"Here, let me try. I can…"

Ben Paul was interrupted when Sophia, without a warning, crawled through the hole while Carol was distracted. "Sophia!" Carol shouted. "Goddammit, Sophia, get back here!"

There wasn't a response. Carol brought her fingers to her mouth and chewed on her nails, almost ripping them out. The door opened and Sophia appeared. Her arms flew in the air. "Ta-da!"

Carol grasped Sophia and clutched her close to her. "Dammit, Sophia, you should've asked me first." ´

"I was just trying to help."

"I know. But you had me real scared for a second there."

"Hey, the girl did a good job." Dale said.

"Let's go inside." Andrea said.

"Looks good from here." Kenny said, peeping inside. "Everybody, let's go."

**AUTHOR NOTE: It was a bit riveting writing this chapter. I have a feeling that the large amount of characters really weighed down the chapter this time around. We need to start scratching some names off the list. Hehe…**


	43. Isolation

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 43 – ISOLATION**

Kenny stood by the doorstop, looking inside the mansion with precaution like it was the lair of a bear. But instead of bears, the walkers were the real risk, since they could hide inside the household, awaiting for the prey to enter for an ambush.

In front of Kenny, there was the kitchen. The sunlight bathing the room revealed clouds of dust whirling in the air and thin layers of dirt on the furniture. There was something creaking upstairs. Maybe a rusty hinge or a cracked floorboard. The smell of must and the vacancy of the rooms resembled a house from which the owners had moved out, leaving little trace of their existence behind. The kitchen had a row of counters and cupboards stretching from a wall to the other and in the middle a large tile surface in the center. To the right, there was a dining area, with a broad table with two bottles of whisky decorating it, and beyond it, there was the living room. It was spacious, with a sofa accompanied by two chairs, a coffee table and a fireplace. The room weren't connected by doors, rather by wide arches.

Kenny stepped into the mansion, the group behind him following after him. Christa wrapped Omid's arm around her neck to help him walking. Her eyes locked on the sofa. It was perfect for him to rest. Omid limped towards it, his leg was nothing but dead weight and his sole support was her.

Omid dropped on the couch, releasing a grunt that was a mix of relief and pain, that shot through his leg and spread throughout his body like he had sharp needles pumping in his blood. Christa retracted her hands, afraid that maybe she had been too harsh while setting her boyfriend down. "Sorry! Sorry!"

"No, it's okay." Omid smiled. "I'm good. Feel better just being off my feet. Thanks, babe."

Christa smiled. Her chest felt lighter just by knowing that Omid was now safe and comfortable. For a brief moment, Omid was taken back, to the normal days, when he would dive into his bed after a day's work, the alleviation that the mattress provided. _Damn. It seems like decades have passed since then._

Travis sat in one of the chairs and bridged the gap between him and the coffee table with his leg, straightening it as much as possible to relieve the pain. Christa smiled at Omid, but her expression became more somber when she looked at Lee.

Christa marched toward the man, the lecture prepared in her mind. "So, when were you going to tell us about the radio?"

"Tell you what?!" Kenny spat.

"That it's working!" Christa said, her arm placed on her hip akimbo, her head boiling hot from Kenny's pitiful attitude. "That there's someone else out there! Don't you think that would've been worth sharing?"

"I have to say, Christa's right." Rick said, his tone sturdy. "You knew that there was a danger present in Savannah and just kept it in the dark."

"I was gonna tell you." Lee said. "Kenny and I only found out yesterday."

"So the both you were keeping it from the rest of us?" Christa scoffed, spitting the air from her lungs. "Great."

"Do you know who is on the other end?" Carley asked.

"No idea." Lee said. "It could be anybody."

"Who gives a shit about the damn radio?!" Kenny demanded. "I'm more worried about whoever was out there ringing that bell and bringing the dead down on top of us! It's like they didn't want us to make it to the river!"

"What makes you think it's not the same person?" Christa enquired. "Whoever was on the radio was close enough to see us in the street. And we didn't see anyone else other than the guy in the bell tower."

"Because that doesn't make a lick of damn sense!" Kenny said. "Why would they bring out the dead like that and then try to warn us about it?"

"Whoever it was, it seemed like they were following us." Lee said. "And I don't like being followed."

"All the more reason to get on a damn boat, where we can't be followed!"

"I'm not going back there anytime soon." Christa said, shaking her head. "Omid needs to rest."

"But what about Otis?" Billy Greene asked, his arms folded as he chewed his toothpick viciously, almost snapping it in half. "We left him on the street! What if he's alive?!"

"People, I…" Rick said, unsure of what phrasing to use. "I know that this has been difficult for all of us. And I know that we have lost a lot. But Otis didn't make it, he couldn't have. He was surrounded by them, back against the wall. As sad as it is…"

Billy's hand fell on the counter with an impact that shook the entire structure. "This is all your goddamned fault! You're the one who wanted to leave him behind! You…"

Hershel laid his hand on his shoulder, his face emanating his typical wise aura. "Billy, calm down! This is hard on all of us, but it isn't Rick's fault what happened. No matter what happens, Otis will always be alive in our hearts."

Billy took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Hershel and his family moved into the living room, with Billy shooting a discreet glimpse towards Rick before leaving. Rick sighed. He felt bad for those people, but they were all hurting, not just Billy. Someone had to make sure they survived. "I know we're on a schedule, but we can't go outside, not until the walkers on the street thin out."

Kenny exhausted a breath. "Suit yourselves. But I'm not gonna wait around too long for someone else to grab up those boats, that's our ticket out of here."

"Place seems secure at least." Carley said.

"I'll feel better when we know that for sure." Christa said. "We need to check the whole house."

"Alright, fine." Kenny said. "I'll take the upstairs. You people get it down here. Make sure you check every door, understand?"

"You're going alone?" Lee asked.

"I can go with you." Ben Paul said.

"No, chicken shit." Kenny hissed, his daggering glare darting towards the teenager. "I'll be fine."

"Damn, dog, don't be foolish." T-Dog said. "We don't oughta be wandering around all by ourselves. I'll go with you."

Kenny didn't nod or say a word of consentient, he just walked towards the stairs. T-Dog chased after him.

"Daryl, mind checking the doors down here?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, course." Daryl said.

Rick swiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Finally, everything was settled. Being a leader was the most stressful job he'd ever had, even worse than being a sheriff. He had to find the correct balance between being firm but not being too strict, and make sure to find a solution that pleased everyone. But even in his best efforts, people just couldn't understand his position, and sometimes he couldn't prevent someone from snapping.

Carley stared at the ceiling. It was so high that it seemed to be a mile out of her reach. "This place really looks huge."

Lee snickered. "Maybe it's because you're so small."

"Are you serious right now?" Carley asked, bending an eyebrow.

"I'm always serious." Lee said. "I'm gonna check on everybody. I'm sure that Hershel and his family aren't in their best of moods right now."

"We always seem to be losing people…" Carley breathed.

"Otis, he…he was a good guy. He saved Clementine back on the street, you know."

Carley looked at the ground for a split second. "Go see if everyone's okay. I'm going to take a look around the kitchen, see if I find anything."

"Good idea."

Lee made his way to the living room. It was quite crowded, as usual, but at least the mansion felt more alive with so many people. Lee approached Omid. Seeing him lying on the couch, wounded, reminded him of how he had started everything. In a hospital bed, wounded. And how he met Rick.

"How's that couch treating you, Omid?" Lee asked. "Leg feeling better yet?"

"I'm alright…" Omid said, but his twisted mouth translated the agony.

"I feel you." Lee said. "What do you guys think about this plan of Kenny's?"

"The guy's losing it." Christa said. "Look, Lee, I know he's your friends and all, but you need to be careful. That man is on the edge. And I don't know if I want to be around when he goes over it."

"Kenny's solid. He's just been through a lot, that's all."

"I hope you're right, Lee. For all of our sakes." Christa said.

The silence of the mansion was broken when a scream reverberated amongst the walls. Lee sprang his head around towards the hall. It was Daryl. The man was just fine, but the door that he was checking for walkers was wide open, and at his feet there was a fallen mop. He put two by two and had a solid guess on what happened. "Daryl, you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine!" Daryl grumbled, grabbing the mop and shoving it back into the closet. It was the first time that Lee ever saw Daryl blushing.

Larry covered his mouth to muffle his giggles. "Farmboy got scared by a freaking mop!"

"You better shut up, old man!"

"I have to say, it was a bit amusing." Lilly said, with a genuine smile that she hadn't felt in ages.

Daryl stared at her for a few seconds, his mind racing to change the subject. Never had he been so glad that Merle wasn't around. He would've burst out laughing, choking and struggling to get air into his lungs, his laughter attracting each walker in the whole city. "Place is picked clean. No walkers though."

"All I found was some dog food and whiskey in the back." Carley announced, leaning against the wall.

Christa nodded, before resting her eyes on Clementine. "I was just asking Clementine if she knows who the man on her radio is."

Clementine shrunk her legs closer to her torso and sank in the chair, seeking in desperation somewhere to hide from the adults' judgmental regard. Christa, with her keen eyes, perceived her discomfort and shifted to a warmer tone. "It's okay, honey, you can tell us. Who is he? What does he want?"

"Go ahead, Clem." Lee said, kneeling to her height. "It's okay. You're not in any trouble."

"You need to tell us, Clementine. You could really help us all." Rick encouraged.

"It's…just a friend." Clementine said. "I don't think he wants to hurt us."

"What has he been saying to you?" Christa asked, folding her arms. "What have you been saying to him?"

"I told him I was trying to find my parents, and they were in Savannah." Clementine said. "He really seems nice, I think he wants to help me find them."

"Clementine. Honey, trust me, that's not what he wants. He-"

"Lee!"

T-Dog's voice resounded through the lower level as he stormed down the stairs with loud thuds. Lee jogged towards the hall. T-Dog halted midway down the stairwell. "Lee, you need to get up here, now."

"What's wrong?"

"It's Kenny." T-Dog said.

* * *

Lee and T-Dog stood side by side, in a hallway leading to a dead-end. On the ceiling, there was an open hatch, with a retractable ladder expanded all the way to the floor. "Kenny said he heard something so he went to go look. But he hasn't come back down and I get him to listen to me. I thought you'd have a bigger influence on him."

"I'll go up there and talk to him." Lee said.

Lee put a foot on the ladder. He had no idea of what could be waiting for him up there. He had never been in such an unpredictable situation. He climbed the ladder, at a slow pace. His eyes needed to get used to the dim lighting of the attic and he had to proceed with prudence.

"Kenny?"

Silence. Lee placed both feet on the floor of the attic and stood straight. The attic was just like any other, a triangular construction with moisture lurking in every corner, and stacks of cardboxes filling the place. Kenny was on his knees, his arms drooped until his fingertips were touching the ground. It was like he didn't have the strength to keep his arms in their position.

"Kenny? You okay man?"

Lee walked a step closer to him, but a putrid stench punched him in the face, forcing him to stop and shroud his nostrils with his palm. "Jesus…what the hell is that…? Oh my God…"

On the other end of the attic, there was a little undead boy. He was barely dressed, only his underwear, and he was so anorexic that he looked just like a skeleton with some skin on it. The boy noticed the two humans and advanced a step towards them. There was a sickening snap as his leg shattered in half. The undead boy collapsed on the ground, his bones too feeble to stand him on his feet.

"Kinda looks like Duck, don't he?" Kenny said. His tone was empty, but not because it lacked emotion.

"It's just a kid." Lee said. "What the hell happened to him…?"

"Ain't nothing on him." Kenny said. "Guess he must've been hiding out up here. Starved to death."

"Jesus…"

"I don't know if I can do it, Lee…" Kenny said. "Not…not again…"

"Don't worry, Ken. I'll do it."

Lee walked towards the end of the attic. His march was slow. He saw, in a gloomy corner, the cot and the blankets in which the boy had slept in, along with an empty water bottle and a spotless plate. _Just ran out of food, like we almost did. Like we still might. What a way to live. What a way to die._

Lee towered over the dead boy. The grey figure couldn't even moan like a regular walker, his growls were like the shouts of a strangled cat. He tried to raise his arm, to reach Lee, but it was an impossible task for him. Lee felt his shoulders heavy, like he was hauling a boulder. How was it possible that such terrible things happen to these poor kids? It was a proven fact that the boy, despite his pleading eyes, was trying to devour the man standing above him. But to Lee, who had seen what the walkers could do to people, had trouble imagining that the boy at his feet wanted to kill him. The boy seemed like it was begging for death. To put him out of his misery.

Lee extracted his gun and aimed it to the boy's temple. "I'm sorry."

The gun fired in his hand. The bullet penetrated the boy's temple and the body went limp. The wooden walls muffled the gunshot. Kenny advanced toward Lee, stopping next to him.

"We should bury him." Kenny suggested.

"I'll take care of it." Lee said.

* * *

Lee cradled the deceased child in his arms as he climbed down the stairs and headed towards the backyard. He felt sets of eyes resting upon him as he moved through the mansion, even a few gasps and some people who had to cover their mouth with their hand. The most shocking thing was that the cadaver was so light. It was about the same weight as a plastic bag, which sent shivers down Lee's spine. As he stepped onto the outside, there was a mist swiveling in the air, blurring the horizon.

Lee walked towards the grave where laid the dog, mutilated and reduced to bones. _Maybe the boy will be happier if he's by his loyal companion's side_. He laid the boy there and wrapped his fingers around the shovel. Before he could pull it out, there was another hand that grasped the shovel.

"You don't always need to be the one to do this." Rick said.

Rick picked the shovel up. Lee stood beside him, his arms crossed. One by one, he sent shovelfuls of dirt on top of the boy and the dog, their contours fading away below the grains of dirt.

"This is the reason I make the choices I make." Rick said. "So that we won't end up like this."

"I know, Rick." Lee said.

Lee peeked towards the door. Carley was standing there, staring at them with a comprehensive look. Lee gave her a nod. As Rick hauled a last bit of dirt onto the grave, an uneasy feeling tumbled upon Lee. Like he was being watched. He glanced in all directions, knowing that it was probably nothing, but as he looked outside the fence, there was a human figure observing them.

"Let's go…"

Rick's sentence was cut off when he raised his head, his eyes falling on the fence. The stranger spun around and bolted, vanishing into the fog.

"Hey! Hey!" Rick shouted.

"Who are you?! What the hell do you want from us?!" Lee hollered.

Carley ran towards the fence. At the same time, Christa, Lilly and Daryl appeared at the door. "Lee? What's going on?" Lilly asked.

"Some fucker was watching us from outside." Rick said. "Soon we caught him, he sprang off runnin'."

"Was it a man or a woman?" Christa inquired.

"Definitely a guy." Rick said.

"What does it matter?" Daryl asked.

"I'm wondering if it's the same guy who's been following us. The guy on the radio." Christa said.

Kenny was the next person that appeared. His head was hung low and his movements were sluggish, like he had just woken up.

"Kenny?" Lee said.

"I'm fine, just…I'm fine." Kenny said. "What's all the ruckus?"

"Lee saw someone watching us from outside the gate." Lilly said.

"What? Who?" Kenny asked, raising his tone.

"We can't be sure." Lee said. "They ran off before we could get a good look. Rick says that he thinks it was a man."

"Dammit. I don't like this one bit." Lilly said.

"Me either." Christa said. "Walkers are one thing, but the thought of someone out there actually stalking us."

"Alright, that's it." Kenny said. "We've stuck around here long enough, it's time to get back on track. It's time to get down to the river and find ourselves a boat."

"I don't know if Omid's well enough to move yet." Christa said.

"Well, then he'd better get ready. 'Cause I'm going down to River Street to get a boat."

"We can do both." Rick said. "I'll take a group and head down to the river. The rest, you can stay here and hold down the fort until we get back."

"No, you should stay here, Rick." Lee said. "The group will be safer if you're around. I'll go with Kenny."

"I can go too." Daryl volunteered.

"The three of us will be enough to go get a boat." Kenny said.

"Wait, can't I come?" Clementine asked. "My mom and dad can't be far now, maybe we can look for them on the way to the river."

"Clem, honey, I—I think it'd be best if you stayed here with the others." Lee said. "I need you to be with Christa and Omid, help them get ready to move out."

"You said I'm always supposed to stay close to you."

"I know. It's just this once. Sometimes, we have to put aside what we want for the good of the group. Hey, don't worry. I'll be back before you know it. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Daylight's burning." Kenny said. "Gonna go grab my gear then we'll head out."

* * *

Now that the walkers had disappeared, ambling off onto another section of the town, the streets were dead quiet. The brick edifices were desolated, the entrances and windows barred with boards. That military insignia was tagged in almost every building, reminiscent of the black plague, where homes struck with the disease would be marked with a red cross.

Lee stopped near a car. It was stripped to the bone, no doors, windshields, motor, tires, nothing. Kenny ignored his friend and marched on, focused on that single objective. Lee and Daryl kept walking, catching up to Kenny.

"So, uh…you want to talk about it?" Lee asked.

"About what?" Kenny asked.

"About what happened back there. In the attic."

"No."

"You sure, man? I mean…"

"River's street right up ahead."

Lee didn't insist. He didn't want to talk, so he wouldn't force it. Kenny was a pain in the ass sometimes, but he meant well. And he would open up when he felt comfortable to. "Everything about this city just seems wrong." Daryl said, his crossbow in his hands.

"I hear you." Lee said.

"This place is picked clean, not a fucking bean laying around." Daryl said. "Someone had their hands busy around here. And with that asshole ringing those bells…I'm starting to think this is some kind of hunt. And we the prey."

Just as Lee thought that nothing could impede Kenny, he was proven wrong. Kenny came to a halt, as another bell rang in the air. Kenny whipped out his gun, predicting that they would have to fight another horde. "Son of a bitch. That bastard's fucking with us again! It's another trap!"

"No, listen." Lee said, uplifting his arm. "That's not the same bell as before. This one's farther off. Whatever it is, it's gonna get the dead over there."

Lee turned around pointed his finger towards the end of the street, from where they came from. Not too long after, duos of walkers shambled into view, but they didn't notice them. Instead, they were following the road that was perpendicular to the one they were standing in.

The three men crouched behind a column. Kenny narrowed his eyebrows. "What the hell is going on?"

"I have no idea." Lee said.

"Maybe this isn't about us." Daryl said. "Maybe whoever is doin' this is trying to lead them away from somewhere."

"Whatever, man." Kenny said. "I find whoever's doing that, I'll ring their motherfucking bell for 'em."

"Good one." Lee said.

The last of them vanished around the corner of the street. With no other present threat, the men hopped onto their feet and continued down the road. "Hmph. Let's keep movin'." Kenny said.

Lee walked backwards, gawking behind them to make sure that there were no walkers on their trail. "Still nothing moving behind us, I think we're-"

As Lee turned around, he halted next to Kenny and Daryl. The river was just in front of them, and it wasn't pretty. "Oh my God…"

The harbor was devoid of any boats. Just like the rest of the city, even the river seemed to be dead; it had a dark color and there were no waves, the water was just straight. There was a yacht, but it was half-sunk underneath the cold water and it was impaled by a column. In the street, there was a banner dangled off a rooftop, saying 'KEEP OUT', and a newsstand that still had a multitude of magazines and newspapers exhibited in the shelves.

Kenny's blood ran cold. He had just lost everything. That allusive boat that was supposed to be waiting there for him was just a lie he had told himself. He saw it now. None of the men made a single sound. Which words can one use to describe the total loss of hope?

Lee scratched his head while grinding his teeth. There wasn't a change in Daryl's posture. He had long foreseen this happening. Any idiot with a boat would have taken it out to sea the second the walkers came. _At least this is over. Now we get to bolt outta here._

"There's has to be a boat. There has to be…" Kenny mumbled.

"Are you sure about that? It doesn't look like to me." Lee said. "Maybe we need to start thinking about a plan B."

"Maybe we need to start thinking about getting the hell out of here." Daryl said.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: I'm real sorry it took some time to upload, I was kind of slacking off until I realized nearly three weeks had passed. I've gotta do more regular uploads. Otherwise, I kind of was struck with a question during the writing. What jobs do you think Omid and Christa had? We learned the occupations of a lot of members in the group but these two are never revealed. **

**Also, in case you watched the third episode of season six…what did you people think about…THAT huge thing that happened?**


	44. Not Alone

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 44 – NOT ALONE**

_That man is on the edge, and I'm not sure if I want to be around when he goes over it. _Lee, in that moment, heard those words bouncing around in his mind. It was what has happening here, with Kenny. The latter had gambled his hope in exchange for a boat. To him, it symbolized that there was still a reason to fight for, a reason to keep on keeping on despite losing his family.

But the truth was that he lost that gamble.

Kenny stared out into the open water, his lower jaw dangling low. His mind was all jumbled up, incapable of processing what he was seeing. His brain was overwhelming him, coming up with a thousand possibilities explaining the absence of any boats. But none of them made any sense. There had to be a boat. If there wasn't…he wasn't sure of what he would do. He was over the edge. Hope is the last one to die, and it had withered the moment he found that empty harbor.

"Kenny, let's just go." Lee said, unsure if his words would land well on the man.

"No! Dammit, don't you get it?!" Kenny vociferated, clenching his fists and shooting a daggering glare towards him. "This is the plan! It's the only one we've got, and you pissin' on it in ain't exactly helping. Well screw you. I'm not giving up that easy."

Lee wanted to comfort his friend, but there was only one thing that would console him, and he could get that. Lee stretched his hand, but Kenny withdrew his arm and dashed towards the harbor. Lee pinched his nose bridge, releasing a sigh, before he and Daryl chased after him.

"Goddammit, he's fucking out of it." Daryl said.

Kenny hopped onto the wooden passageway, where boats used to dock. He darted his eyes in all directions. There was a sailboat half-sunk in the water, but a cement column erected in the water was drilling it. A part of Kenny knew that the boat was probably fucked beyond repair, but it was all he had to hold on to. He suppressed those thoughts and jogged towards the edge of the passageway, leaning on the railing to take a better look at the boat.

"This one might still be salvageable." Kenny said.

Lee scratched his head. It didn't take him too much to know that the boat wasn't in good shape. Worst of all, the enthusiasm in Kenny's voice seemed authentic. He was being blinded by denial.

"That piece is junk has a hole in it! We wouldn't even be able to get it out of the water." Daryl said.

"Hey, you're the one that knows about hunting, I'm the one that knows about boats, okay?" Kenny spat, glaring at him before his eyes returned to the boat. "I'll check it out. You look further along the waterfront. Maybe there's something on the other end."

"This is ridiculous, for Christ's sake."

"If you want, you can just go back to the house!" Kenny shouted. "Otherwise, stop complaining and being such a pain in the ass."

"Listen, can we focus here?" Lee asked, his eyes flicking between the two men. "Daryl and I will go check the waterfront. I don't think we should split too far though."

"We don't have to." Kenny said, beaming his finger towards the distance. There was a telescope mounted on the sidewalk. "See that telescope? You can see all the way along the waterfront from right here. See what you can find."

"Okay."

* * *

Travis limped towards the kitchen. The Greene's weren't in the house and, from what he had heard, they were in the backyard for some reason. The back door was open, with Jimmy leaning against it. The mist outside was persistent, giving the town a ghostly aspect. _Reminds me of Silent Hill._ Not to mention that the cold pierced their skin like knives, and formed swiveling clouds on each breath exiting their lungs.

"Hey, what's up?" Travis asked.

Jimmy made a chin gesture, pointing towards the backyard. Travis glimpsed past the farmboy's shoulder. Glenn was jabbing a wooden cross into the ground, next to that young dead boy's grave, with four letters carved on it. _OTIS. _Billy, Beth, Maggie and Hershel were kneeled in front of the cross. There was no body six feet under the ground, but they had to honor their dead anyway they could. Glenn sat next to his girlfriend and put his arm over her neck, while she dropped her head on his shoulder. There was also Dale, standing behind the family.

Travis raised a brow. Something was off. Beth had a boyfriend, didn't she? Jimmy? Beth had her face buried into her hand, her chest bouncing up and down with each sob. "Bro, your girlfriend seems really broken. Why aren't you there with her?"

Jimmy lowered his head, avoiding the other teenager's gaze, his cheeks blushing. "I don't know, man. Lately, we've been kind of…strainin' apart."

"Well, I can see why." Travis said. "You're standing here like a moron instead of being there with her."

Jimmy kept quiet. Travis shrugged, wondering why the guy was so damn afraid. "It's your choice, man. Whatever. When she breaks up with you, don't act surprised."

Travis walked away, leaving Jimmy to his thoughts and his wussy attitude. He couldn't help but feel a drop of guilt when a smile drew in his lips. But that drop of guilt rapidly vanished. _Maybe I won't be skydiving, bungee-jumping or eating Italian pizza anytime soon, but it looks like another opportunity is shining._

* * *

Andrea sat in the dining table, disassembling her Anschutz .22 LR. The always loyal companion that she hadn't cleaned in centuries. _Poor boy, I've forgotten about you. _She swept each piece with care and meticulously, removing piece after piece with precision like the sniper rifle was an extension of her own body. No part was forgotten – whether it was the smallest spring or the hefty stock.

She liked taking her time. It gave her time to think. It was like her physical self disconnected from her mind, allowing her to reflect endlessly. It was her rare moment of peace, and she had to enjoy it while it lasted.

"Who taught you to disassemble your rifle?"

Rick's voice snapped her from her thoughts, bringing her back to reality. Andrea responded as Rick took a seat next to her. "Dale gave me a few tips, otherwise I learned by myself. Guess I'm kind of a natural."

"I can see. I bet you could beat me in a gun disassembling race." Rick quipped. "Listen, I wanted to thank you. You know, for taking responsibility, for keeping an eye on things when I can't. Lately, I've had a lot of…stuff and things on my plate, and I can't always see everything. These people think I know everything, but I don't know jack shit what I'm doing."

"C'mon, Rick, you know that's a lie." Andrea said. "You're the one who led us this far. Things might look grim right now, but it would much worse if you weren't in charge. Don't underestimate yourself."

"I don't know." Rick said, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. "Stuff just keeps piling up. Sometimes feels like too much to think about."

"Then take a timeout. Think about it. That's what I do when things pile up."

Rick raised his head, feeling lighter. He looked at Andrea. "Still think about Amy?"

"All the time." Andrea nodded, her voice a whisper. Rick was puzzled by her. Her voice was feeble, but her expression emanated some kind of hopeful determination. "But she's in the past. I'll never forget her, of course. I'll always have those fond memories of her. But that's just what they are. Memories. We can't live in the past. We have to think about the future. Otherwise..."

"...otherwise it eats you up." Rick completed her sentence.

* * *

"Sophia, come here."

Sophia obeyed her mother's call, and sauntered towards her. Carol put her hand on her daughter's shoulder, but a sensation of consternation crumbled upon her. Her grip felt rather rough, and a bit uncomfortable. Carol led her upstairs, into an empty bedroom.

Carol closed the door behind them. Sophia gulped her saliva, inspecting the room that was cold like the winter breeze - maybe because it was uncharted territory to her. It was vacant, except for a king-sized bed and a chest of drawers, a print of what it could have been before. Why did she take her into that place where no eyes could see them?

Carol sat in the bed, and tapped the mattress with her palm. "Come sit here."

Sophia, for a few seconds, remained still. It wasn't the first time she had had this sensation, but sometimes her mother seemed like a total different person. When her father was alive, her mom always had her head hidden between her shoulder, dodging the judgmental looks thrown at her, her back was always slightly bent, her voice always heavy in emotion and often cracking. But progressively, her posture was always straight, her walking confident, and her tone became emptier and firmer. Sophia was glad to see her mother become so strong, but sometimes she was a bit unsecure around her.

Sophia sat next to her.

"Sophia, do you know why I brought you here?" Carol said.

"No." Sophia said, shaking her head. "Is it because of what I did earlier with the doggie door?"

"Yes. It was very dangerous and a very idiotic thing to do." Carol reprehended. "But it made me realize something. You don't know how to protect yourself. We're not always going to be together, Sophia. One day, you might be alone, and a pack of walkers comes at you. What're you gonna do? Get eaten?"

Sophia stared at her mother, a glow in her eyes. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do.

"Rick did it with Carl, Lee did it with Clem, and I was stupid not to do it sooner with you." Carol said, slipping her hand into her belt. Sophia distanced herself a few centimeters from her, anticipating what she was going to pull out. A pistol. "You're gonna learn how to survive."

"But…"

"No if's and no but's. This is what will save your life, whether you'll like it or not." Carol said, nearing her face to Sophia's.

Sophia lowered her head. "But guns are dangerous."

"No, people who use them are dangerous." Carol said. "You can't be a kid anymore. You have to forget about your coloring books and drawings, this is what matters nowadays."

Sophia remained silent and stared at the ground. Carol rolled her eyes – her approach wasn't working. _Maybe I was a bit too rough. _"Come here, baby."

Carol drew Sophia into a hug. Sophia wrapped her arms around her and Carol rubbed her back. "You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah." Sophia said.

"And you know I just want the best for you, right?" Carol asked.

"Yeah."

"So can you just try it? For mommy?"

Sophia withdrew herself from her mother's armsand wiped her eye. "Okay then."

* * *

Lee and Daryl strolled down the sidewalk while Kenny kept on inspecting the debris. His gaze spurted in all directions, being especially attentive when it came to alleyways, windows, rooftops and possible sniper nests. The environment is a storyteller, and Daryl knew how to spot the signs of former life presence. But even he was having trouble in finding evidence of any humans passing by earlier. No footsteps, no tire marks, no empty bullet shells, no food cans littered on the ground, nothing. The place was deserted like the Sahara. It just made him more paranoid, more aware that a threat could rear its head at any instant.

Lee was about to take a peek through the telescope, when something much more horrifying caught his attention.

The stench was the first thing that reached their nostrils. Their lungs were poisoned by it, and they started coughing in a desperate attempt to expel it. Lee closed his eyes, watered with tears, and struggled for air with each breath attack, that made him see filaments of light in the darkness of his eyelids. Once he got used to breathing that unexplainable, sickening disease that was pairing in the air, he open a gap in his eyelids. His whole body was petrified, like a statue.

The road was walled off, but it wasn't by a barricade. Several poles had been installed along the street. And the worst of all, there were people impaled in it. The reanimated walkers waved their arms in the air, their moaning braided into the air like choir chanting with no synchronization. Surrounding those crucified souls, there were stacks of rotting cadavers, blocking the passage. _How can there be so many people stacked in one place?_ Lee was left so shocked by that sight, he had trouble of thinking of those poor creatures as walkers. They looked so human, like they were suffering, their groans were exasperated pleads for death to save them from the fate they'd succumb to.

Daryl wasn't fazed by a lot, but even he felt his stomach turning. "Who the hell did this…?"

"I have no idea." Lee said, looking away from the dreadful image. "But I don't want to stick around to find out."

"Fuck!"

Lee and Daryl sprang around at the sound of Kenny's holler, but even after ducking their eyes from the mass of death, that image remained scarred into their minds. Kenny climbed back onto the sidewalk, and was now sauntering towards them.

"What's wrong?" Daryl asked.

"It ain't gonna work." Kenny said. "Hull's cracked beneath the water line, plus someone stripped out the battery."

"I told you so."

"Don't give me the 'I told you-"

Kenny stopped his sentence as he peeked beyond the two men in front of him. His jaw declined an inch, a cold breath escaping his mouth while his eyes shined with terror. "What the—what the hell is that?!"

"A fate worse than death." Lee said with a gravelly voice.

Lee headed towards the telescope while Kenny stayed fixated on that aggregation of sickness. Daryl kept a lookout. Lee looked through the scope and saw nothing but a black screen. He retracted his eye. "It needs a penny."

"Here." Daryl said, reaching into his pocket and pulling a coin, which he threw at Lee.

Lee caught the coin and inserted it in the telescope. "Out of curiosity, why'd you have a coin?"

"To do magic tricks." Daryl said, though Lee wasn't sure if he meant it or not.

Lee looked through the scope again and his vision was amplified far into the horizon. The skyline was blurred by the fog and not a human silhouette was visible. He rolled his eyes through every inch of the distant city, and yet no boats. He turned the telescope until it wouldn't turn no more, and it was there when the surprise came.

There was a hooded person standing of the rooftop of a building, and he was climbing down the façade with a pickaxe.

Lee drew a breath as he backed away from the telescope. "Shit! Get down!"

Kenny and Daryl didn't even look to see what the imminent threat was. They just reacted, vaulting over the railing and onto the harbor after Lee. Daryl felt the adrenaline rushing up his spine, the anticipation of a firefight building up in his muscles.

"Why the hell are we hiding?!" Kenny asked.

"Someone came down from that building at the end of the street." Lee said.

"Where'd he go?" Daryl asked.

Lee peeped through the gaps of the railing. The guy, wearing a orange hoodie, with a backpack and a pickaxe strapped to it. The survivors strolled into the newsstand and began rummaging the shelves, stocked with magazines but nothing else useful.

"Saw him run into that newsstand."

"Could be our bell ringer." Kenny said. "How about we go find out?"

"Seems like a plan."

"Okay, you head up the middle of the street, I'll go around the side, cover your flank. Daryl, you hang back and if things get messy, you'll be our backup. We'll come up on him quiet, take him by surprise."

Kenny snatched the pistol from his belt, while Daryl checked if the string in his crossbow was ready to fire. Lee looked at their weapons, wondering if it would be the best solution. "We just want to talk to this guy."

"Oh, we're gonna talk."

Kenny climbed back onto the sidewalk and slithered towards the nearest alleyway, where he would stay in cover until the moment to pop up would appear. Lee jumped over the railing too, and calculated each step towards the newsstand.

He slipped his hands into his belt and took out the spanner he had. He didn't want to use a gun, he had no intentions to kill the guy for now. The stranger crouched behind the newsstand, presumably to check under the counter. Lee felt his body stiffening, as he planned his movements inside his head.

He hopped onto his feet and lifted his spanner, ready for a blow.

There was no one there.

"What the…?!"

Before he had the time to react, the spanner was taken from his hands, with the agility of a ghost. He circled around and could only get a glance of the same stranger standing behind him. _How did this guy sneak behind me without me noticing me? _That thought flashed by his mind at a supersonic speed, before the spanner hit hard on his cheek.

Lee fell to the ground hard, like dead weight. The world became blurry and he wasn't sure of what was happening anymore. Images flashed in front of his eyes, as he was sure he was going to die soon. _This is it. End of the road._ The hooded man dropped the spanner and took out a pickaxe from her back, prepared for euthanize Lee.

"No!"

The high-pitched scream was familiar and Lee was not expecting to hear it. The eyes of his soon-to-be killer opened wide, and his arm stayed firm. Something had caught that survivor's attention. It was palpable in his eyes. That shriek had softened him.

Lee gathered his strengths to mumble a single word. "Clem…?"

"Please, don't hurt him!" Clementine beseeched.

Lee was stormed by a myriad of questions, but it just intensified the pain pulsating in his head like a living heart. Why was she there? Had she sneaked from the mansion? As he put two by two, it all made sense. The girl was obviously ardent in exploring the city with him, but he had denied her demand back at the house. Dammit, she was too damn smart. So smart she managed to sneak undetected by twenty-and-so people.

The survivor got on its feet and backed off. Seeing it as a sign of newfound peace, Lee hurtled onto his feet and headed towards Clementine, setting his hand on her shoulder. It was clear in her eyes that she knew what she did was wrong, but Lee sure wasn't going to scold her, after all if she hadn't intervened in time, he could have been dead.

"Hey, pick on the ground, now!" Daryl shouted, having jumped out of his hiding spot with his crossbow aimed high.

Lee massaged his jaw. The hooded stranger remained static, with her legs slightly bent as if she was preparing to bolt. It was bizarre but his movements had so much finesse, that he had a feeling the stranger would have been able to dodge that arrow. "Daryl, just take it easy."

Daryl didn't budge at his words. He was rigid, his stance firm. "This psycho nearly drove that pick through your eye!"

"It ain't worth it!" Lee insisted.

Daryl snorted, before lowering the bow. He didn't holster it and clutched it in his right hand, the index finger hovering around the trigger. The survivor straightened her posture and looked at Lee, before she spoke her first words. "You're not from Crawford."

The voice was feminine. Lee was half-surprised – she'd have to be an anorexic man to have such a slender physique and her hip curves were indicatory. "You're not the guy on the radio."

The girl took off her hoodie and her surgical mask. She had short, blond hair and baby blue eyes, while her lips were thin like hay-straws. Daryl released a grunt. _Damn, Lee really got his ass kicked by a chick. _"I'm not a guy at all." The girl said. "Full marks for observation."

Lee opened his mouth to ask her name, but was disrupted when he spotted Kenny slinking out of the alleyway, taking aim with his pistol. But the girl surprised him as always. The girl narrowed her eyebrows as she perceived a moving person from the corner of her eye, from her peripheral vision. **[AUTHOR NOTE: I bet Molly put 10 points on Perception. Very well then, continue your reading.] **_It seems like she sees everything. _"Kenny, don't!"

The girl lowered her body onto a squatting position and swiveled in her heels, with her foot stretched out, swooping Kenny's leg and sending him tumbling to the ground. His fingers tightened around his pistol in a reflex, firing a loose shot into the distance.

Daryl flinched as he heard the bullet whizzing centimeters from his ear, like a stinging wasp. The impaled walkers – no, the lost souls – became more agitated, their primal instincts reacting to the noise. Molly whipped her pickaxe, getting a good grip on the edge of the handle, and raised her arm to scramble Kenny's brains into a bloody pulp.

"He's with us!" Lee screamed.

Kenny hid his face with his arm, as if it would attenuate the pain and closed his eyelids until they were hurting. Her arm swing ceased as the blade was just inches away from his cheekbone. The girl retreated, sheathing her pickaxe on her backpack.

"You fucking idiots almost blew my head off!" Daryl said, his palm covering his ringing ear.

"Sorry, but this bitch was the one who swept my leg!" Kenny protested, getting back on his feet with a sore body.

"Guys, just calm down. All this ruckus isn't helping." Lee said, stepping between the two men and the girl, with his arms elevated to keep them distanced from each other.

"Who the hell are you people?" She asked.

"I asked you first." Lee said.

"The name's Molly." She said.

"Molly. I'm Lee, this is Kenny and Daryl, and this is Clementine. We're not looking for any trouble."

Molly looked at Clementine, who waved at her with a smile. Molly's eyes glowed with a strange emotion, but she didn't return the simper. "You guys really aren't from Crawford, are you?"

"No, I'm from Macon. Kenny here is from Florida…"

"She didn't ask for our life stories, Lee!" Kenny said, his tone cranky as usual. "What's the deal with this Crawford place?"

"You sure you wanna know?" Molly asked.

Kenny nodded.

"When everything started going to shit, some people got together and sealed off that whole neighborhood. Folks willing to do anything to stay alive, stop the dead from getting in. I try to avoid 'em."

"Why?" Daryl demanded.

"Let's just say that they have a zero tolerance policy for anyone who won't – or can't – live by their rules." Molly said.

"How'd you know we weren't them?" Daryl inquired.

Molly hesitated for a second, before turning to Clementine. "Because there are no children in Crawford. Not anymore."

"What do you mean, no children?" Lee asked. "Why not?"

"No children, no elderly, no-one with an advanced medical condition. Basically, no-one who might be a burden on their community. Crawford's all about the survival of the fittest. That's how they survived, while the rest of the world went to shit around them."

"Jesus Christ." Kenny muttered.

"Well, just the opposite, when you think about it."

"What exactly did Crawford do to all these 'burdens'? What happened to them?" Lee inquired.

"Well, you met some of them already." Molly said, pointing her finger towards the impaled walkers.

"Fuck me…" Daryl murmured.

"Yeah." Molly said. "Anyone who got sick, anyone too old, anyone they figured wasn't strong enough to survive. To them, those people were just mouths to feed, a drain on their precious resources."

"How do you know all of this?" Lee asked.

"Everyone in Savannah knew." Molly replied. "What was going around in Crawford got passed around like a ghost story. Except this one was true."

"Do you know who's been ringing those bells all over town?" Lee asked.

"Yeah, that would be me." Molly said.

"Ah-ha!" Kenny said, throwing an accusing finger towards her and shooting fire waves towards her with his glare. "I knew it! Lee, I knew she was the one who's been following us, fucking with us!"

"Get that finger out of my face, grandpa, before I jam it up your ass." Molly said. "I haven't been following you. I don't even know who the hell you people are."

"Calm down, Kenny." Lee said. "The voice on the radio was a guy, remember?"

"Still, she and her ringin' bells got one of us killed today." Daryl said.

"Yeah, raised the dead all around us!" Kenny said.

"That's the idea, genius." Molly said. "That's how I get around. I ring a bell in one neighborhood to attract the local geeks toward it, buys me some time to scavenge the areas they cleared out."

Kenny grinned. "Geeks? Is that what you call 'em?"

"Yeah, you know. Like at the carnival. They'll eat anything, alive or dead."

"That's smart." Lee said.

"Doesn't take much to outsmart the dead." Molly said. "Bunch of dumbasses. You just gotta move fast, get in and out before they start to wander back again. Look, I'm gonna ask you again. You're not from Crawford, so who the hell are you? What are you doing here?"

"We came down here looking for a boat, hoping to get our people out of here and find someplace safe."

"Good luck with that." Molly snickered. "Anyone with a boat took it out of here as soon as people started eating each other. Any that got left behind, Crawford stripped 'em for parts. Cars too."

"There's gotta be something." Kenny said.

"If there was, do you think I'd still be here?" Molly asked. "I've been over every inch of this city, this whole place is picked clean."

Kenny clenched his fists, his lip twitching. He spun around on his heels brusquely and stormed off towards the harbor, discharging heavy breaths. "Goddammit! Fuck!"

"Hey, moron!" Molly remarked, keeping her tone in a hushed whisper. "Wanna keep your voice down?"

Kenny was about to reply with a tempest of insults, but then just released a sigh, sagging his shoulders along his torso. "…Shit…"

"Since you're not getting on any boat, I'd advise you folks to go back where you came from, before…"

Molly didn't complete her sentence as an orchestra of moaning weaved into their ears, but this time it was stronger, louder. Lee looked past his shoulder, and saw a herd of walkers, flocked like sheep, shambling into the street. The horde was dense as a brick wall and there was no way of piercing through that.

"Great. Just great." Molly said.

"Isn't that the…" Daryl said.

"…the way we came?" Lee said.

"Fuck. Gunshot must've brought 'em back." Kenny said.

"Isn't there another way back to the house?" Clementine asked.

"Molly, is there…?"

Lee turned back to Molly, only to see a blank space on the spot she was supposed to be in. Lee only saw her for a second, dashing and disappearing into the alleyway. Daryl chased after her, along with the others.

"Hey! You just gonna leave us here?!" Lee demanded.

Molly ran towards a wall and set her foot on it with a jump, then leapt across the alley onto a balcony. She wriggled her way up and spoke once she was back on her feet. "Sorry, I must've missed that part of the conversation where you became my problem."

"Don't leave us here! Please!" Clementine pleaded, her sad eyes like the ones of a hurt puppy.

Molly stared back at the kid. She hesitated for a second, the indecision disheveling her thoughts, before she let out an annoyed breath. She descended into a prone position and hanged her arm from the ledge. "Make it fast!"

Lee grasped Clementine by her armpits and hoisted her on top of the balcony. Molly grabbed her and pulled her up to safety, and dangled her arm once more after making sure Clementine was alright. Lee intertwined his fingers, forming a handstand. Daryl put his foot on his hands, giving him height for Molly to get a grip on him. Molly grunted, the weight too much for her to handle. Daryl used his spare hand to latch onto the ledge, and utilized his own force to get up.

Lee repeated the drill with Kenny, who lent him his hand afterwards. "C'mon, man, one good jump!"

The walkers were now flooding the alley and were getting closer to Lee. If in a few seconds, he wasn't up on that balcony, those walkers would grasp him and he would get to know what it is like to be a live buffet. Lee bounced off the ground and Kenny clasped his hand. But the fire of that old war wound in his stomach burned, the stitches threatening to open. He let Lee go.

Lee fell on his derriere. The adrenaline muzzled the pain, and just made him act. He knew that he couldn't get a second jump and was trapped in that alley. His friends watched him from above, calling his name. Lee crawled backwards to get some distance, before he got on his feet and proceeded down the alley.

He saw an exit on the other end, the only thing stopping him being a dumpster. He shoved the broad object aside, but came to a halt once again when another pack of walkers limped into the alley from the second end. He was cornered. He looked in all directions, and as if it was a miracle, there was a manhole beneath his feet.

He clutched the manhole and towed it out of the ground, but the sewer lid seemed to be welded to the concrete. Lee wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead, the list of solutions getting shorter.

"Here!"

Molly hollered, throwing her pickaxe onto the ground below. Lee grabbed it in a lurching motion and nipped the blade in the minuscule gap between the ground and the manhole. He grunted from the effort, applying all of his desperate force into it.

The manhole popped out like the lid of a jar. Lee threw it aside, strapping the pickaxe on his back, before he scurried down the ladder of the hole.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: As always, I excuse myself for the delay. I also excuse myself for having an existence on this universe and being such a douchebag for taking so long. But school and real life really haven't given me time to write, not to mention that I've been straying a bit to new projects.**

** This chapter, along with the last few, have been following the storyline rather tightly, but next chapter is going to change that radically, as another arc will clash with the story. But it might not be the one you're expecting.**

** I also am happy to announce that it's been a year since I first published this story. Time really flies by, uh? Thanks to everyone who's embarked on this adventure with me and who put up with me for a full year. Onward unto another great year!**


	45. Maze Runner

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 45 – MAZE RUNNER**

**AUTHOR NOTE: I would just like to point out that while I said in the former chapter a new arc would clash with the story in this part, that won't be true because this chapter ended up being longer than I had expected, so I had to cut out the 'new' part. But in the next one, I promise there will things that will change.**

* * *

Lee scooted down the ladder, almost slipping and succumbing to a ten feet fall. The moans above him echoed in the narrow passageway, as the walkers shoved each other aside for a place around the opening like they were in a Black Friday sale.

Lee reached the bottom. He hopped onto the ground, panting and wiping the sweat off his forehead. It had been a close one on that alley. He looked up, causing him to draw an audible breath. The sight wasn't pretty. Numerous pairs of cinereous arms swayed inside the manhole, eyes pale as the moon gawking down at the human. That empty gaze that was ever so piercing.

_It's over. _He let himself relax, knowing that he was now in safety.

But his resting came to a halt when he saw a walker squeezing its body into the passageway.

Lee evaded, jumping backwards. The walker fell through the manhole and dove into the concrete. Lee flinched when he heard the crunch of bones shattering, along with daubs of blood that were splattered on the ground. The female zombie was still alive – after all, its brain was intact. It moved its limbs in minimalistic movements, all while groaning.

"Clementine, can you hear me?" Lee shouted towards the opening, with no response. "If you can hear me, just go back to the house! I'll meet you there!"

Lee turned around, facing the depths of the sewers. The maze of tunnels was darkened and dank, the air reeking of stale water. The profound underpass seemed to stretch towards infinity. _Geez, I got a long way to go._

* * *

Lee turned around yet another corner of a stone wall. He had lost track of time for a while now. Despite being in a relatively safer place, he kept his guard up. From time to time, he heard echoes through the tunnels, and he wasn't sure if they were the dead's moaning or the wind channeling through the pipes.

He froze. In the middle of the tunnel, lying on the ground, there was something. The obscurity and the distance only allowed Lee to see its contours, but it looked like a person. A cold shiver vibrated throughout Lee's body, because there was something perturbingly familiar about that corpse.

Lee tiptoed towards the human silhouette. He was at a loss for words, but with each step the answer came to him. The ginger hair and stubble, the boots speckled with mud, the checkered shirt and the leather vest, the shovel laying on the ground.

Lee sighed deeply as he kneeled next to the body. Otis had its stomach carved wide open, the guts yanked out, similar to snakes rinsed in blood. His face was contorted in a sickening grimace, his tongue dangling off his drooped mouth. The most horrifying were his eyes that were so gorked. Lee covered his lips with the back of his hand, repressing a gag.

"You deserved better, old man." Lee mumbled.

Lee got back up on his feet. It saddened him that he had to just leave him there, in the grime, but he couldn't haul him back. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard more echoes, this time more tangible and definitely animalistic grunts. _I'm not alone in here._

* * *

After spending what seemed like an eternity in that labyrinth, Lee swore that the walls were closing in on him. _Maybe just a claustrophobic sensation. _Unlike what he expected, there were a lot of lonely zombie dwellers in those sewers. Lee used water valves to distract them and until then he had managed to sneak by them without fighting.

He was now walking down a dead-end. He was relieved though, because he saw a half-broken ladder leading to the top. Lee stopped in front of it. The ladder was clearly out of his reach and he didn't see any objects for him to stand on. He needed to use another technique.

His eyes rolled up the wall erected in front of him. Like a lightning bolt, he remembered the move Molly had used on the alley, to get on the balcony. She ran up to the wall, set a foot on it and jumped high. Lee scratched his chin. He did have her pickaxe. Lee whipped out the weapon and distanced himself from the wall, canvassing it. The stone walls seemed to be too wet and slippery for him to get a good grip. But that wasn't a problem, since there was a large sign hung, which would make a good landing spot for his foot.

In his mind, he calculated his steps. Run, set foot on the sign, jump, latch onto the ladder. Taking a deep breath, he sprinted towards the wall. When he was close enough, he leapt into the air, setting the tip of his foot on the sign and bouncing high into the air, all of it in just a second.

It was at that moment that something went wrong. His foot lost the grip, like if a rug had been pulled from underneath him. Soon, the ladder became more distant as he landed butt hard on the concrete, along with a rusty creak.

He shook his head. _What the hell happened? _As the soreness in his derriere dissipated, he saw why he had failed. The sign had broken off the wall and revealed a hidden door. His brain puzzled with questions, he hopped to his feet and approached the entrance. Two words were noticeable on the door – FALLOUT SHELTER.

Poked by curiosity like a mosquito bite, he opened the door. The dim and small room was abundant with food and supplies, organized in boxes and stocked in shelves. _It's enough to last us for the months! _The surprise didn't seem to end there, as he saw another door at the end of the room. He strolled towards it and opened it.

He was petrified. Inside, there were five people.

The silence fell heavy like an anvil, to be shattered by the cock of a revolved. The hourglass of time had sped up, and Lee solely had a few seconds to analyze the situation. The room, not too big but with a high ceiling, was lit by a few candles spread out. The place was a morgue – it was evident by the cold chambers that were pulled open like drawers, and had sheets and pillows on them to be used as beds. The five people consisted of two women and three men, and they were all quite old. One of the women was considerably younger, maybe in her early forties.

The old man holding the handgun kept it aimed at Lee's chest. Like if it had become an habit, Lee raised his hands, his eyes wide open. He was sure that he was going to shoot. Nowadays, who wouldn't? Lee looked into the eyes of the elder. _Maybe I'm wrong. _His hands were shaking violently, and the dread in his eyes made it look like he was the one who was more afraid. He wasn't a killer.

"Who are you?" The old man mumbled, with a choked voice.

"It's alright. It's okay. I don't want any trouble." Lee said, in a firm tone.

"Neither do we." The old man said, his voice breaking. "Which is why you'd do well to turn around and leave. Right now."

"Look, I'm sorry I disturbed you folks." Lee said. He just wanted to get the hell away from that place without a bullet lodged in his body, and if that old man was giving him the opportunity of mercy, he was seizing it. "I'll just be going."

"You can't let him leave." The younger woman said. "He's from Crawford! If he goes back there and they out we're down here…"

The younger woman remained stern as she talked, emitting a disdainful glare towards the history teacher. Lee gulped his saliva. His situation had become trickier. The old man stared at the ground, flicking his eyeballs in all directions, before he looked back up at Lee. "A-Are you from Crawford? D-Don't lie to me, I'll know."

"I'm not from around here. I'm from Athens, grew up in Macon."

"I have a brother in Macon." The old man said, his voice softening a little. "You were there? How was it? As bad as here?"

Lee narrowed his eyebrows and muttered a simple phrase. "I'm sorry."

The younger woman twisted her lips, taking a step forward. "You can't trust him, Vernon! You can't let him leave!"

"W-What do you want me to do? Shoot him in the head?!" Vernon exclaimed sarcastically.

"Why not?! That'd be more of a mercy than anyone from Crawford ever showed us! Think, Vernon! What do you think they'll do if they find out we're down here, right under their feet?!"

"I'm not from Crawford." Lee said, keeping his tone casual. "But I saw what they did up there. It made me sick. I'm not like them. And I don't think you are either. I think you're a good man."

Vernon shook his head multiple times. Lee could almost see the gears working inside his brain, contradicting each other between the two choices he had. But the man was reluctant. Lee lowered his arms half-way, moving his leg to take a step towards him. Vernon raised his head in a quick movement and jolted his gun, making Lee come to another halt.

"Keep back or I swear I'll shoot!" Vernon said.

Lee's expression was frozen. _Do or die. _But he couldn't freeze. He took another step with caution, then another, like a baby walking for the first time. In a slow motion, he wrapped the barrel of the revolver with his fingers and turned to the side, out of harm's way. Vernon lowered his head once again and offered no resistance. Lee slipped the revolver from his hands, while being careful with the trigger.

"Vernon, what the hell are you doing?!" The woman shouted, her eyes now gleaming with panic. Seeing the revolver in the hands of the stranger, she rushed in front of Vernon. "Vernon!"

Lee tucked the revolved into his belt. "Relax. I'm not here to hurt you."

The woman stayed silent and stoic, in front of Vernon. "You're really not from Crawford?"

"No, I'm really not." Lee said.

Clive, who had bushy hair, released a sigh and loosened his arms. With the hostility out of the way, the activity inside the shelter resumed. Boyd, a man with a grizzly white beard, served as a crutch to help the older woman, Joyce, sitting on a bed. The younger woman, keeping a straight posture, went to check on Joyce. Lee was stung in his chest. Those people were quite old and he couldn't help feel some pity for them.

"Well, we are. Or were." Vernon said. "We got out of there when they started sealing up the place, started weeding out the old and sick so their perfect survivor society wouldn't be threatened. No room for weakness or vulnerability in their little master race."

"You don't look that old. So, you're sick?" Lee asked.

"Were sick. We're all members of a cancer survivors group that used to meet here at the hospital. We're in remission. But that wasn't good enough for Crawford! They'd already rounded up five of us before the rest of us managed to hole up and hide down here. This old basement's been abandoned for years."

"What is this? A morgue?" Lee asked.

"Yeah. Irony's always high up on my list when I'm looking for a place to survive." Vernon said. "How did you find your way down here?"

"My group and I were up by the river looking for a boat. Now I just want to get out of here and find them again."

"That sewer system you came through runs through all over the city, it'll take you wherever you want to go."

"Those sewers are like a damn maze. Any chance you could help me find my way back?"

"Look, I'd like to help you. But we've all got out own problems. Two of our group are sick and need constant care, and I'm the only doctor here."

The woman lurched her head towards him. "Besides, why should we help you?"

"Look, I'm sorry if I scared you. I just wanna get back to my people." Lee said. "Back to Clementine."

Vernon uplifted his head, facing Lee. "She's your daughter?"

"No, she lost her real parents. I'm doing what I can." Lee said.

"You're not seriously considering going with him." The woman said.

"It's alright, Brie." Vernon said. "I had a daughter too. Lost her in the first few days. I'll be damned if I just sit back and let that happen to someone else."

"We need you here." Clive said.

"Don't worry." Vernon said. "I'll be back before you know it. Let's go."

Brie breathed loudly, knowing that she wouldn't be able to talk Vernon out of it. The two exchanged a hug. Vernon detached from her and headed towards the door, then nodded towards the door. "Let's go."

* * *

"Dammit, Daryl, this seems idiotic, even for you."

Rick ambulated back and forth, tilting his head in quick spasms. Molly leaned against the kitchen counter as the two men spoke. She scoped out each corner of the room, sometimes opening a cupboard to investigate if there was something inside. Daryl knew she was eavesdropping on them, but wanted to act distracted.

"Rick, just drop it." Kenny said, with a bummed expression. "We got other issues right now."

"You guys know we can't be taking anyone else in the group." Rick said, taking a pause from his ambling to say his sentence before resuming it.

"This is pointless. I don't have the patience to argue right now." Kenny said.

Kenny dragged his feet towards the table in the dining room. He let out a sigh, but then held his breath as his eye caught something hopeful. A whisky bottle, right there. He took it and unscrewed the lid, throwing it in the corner. He chugged down a lengthy sip until his lungs were gasping for air.

"Getting three sheets to the wind ain't gonna help anyone." Rick said.

"Yeah, well, what is?! " Kenny said in a rising tone, leaning on the table, half-sitting on top of it. "We are fucked! Molly said there's not a single boat left in Savannah. No way out. We got walkers all around us, that crazy fuck on the radio messing with us…hell, if now ain't the time for a drink…!" Kenny chuckled from the humor of the dire situation, before punctuating his sentence with another sip.

"We didn't have any choice." Daryl whispered, returning to the former talk subject. "She helped us back on that alley."

"Seemed she nearly killed you from what you told me." Rick said, shooting him a glare with his blue, snake gaze.

"She did." Daryl said. "But Lee trusts her. He ain't gonna like if we kick her out."

Glenn got up from the windowsill and walked toward the two men. "Listen, Rick, we took in Hershel and his family. I don't see why we can't do the same with just one person."

Rick passed his tongue behind his teeth. The argument was reasonable. And that was the problem. He was losing. "The more people we take in, the scarcer our supplies will be and there will be a bigger risk of us getting stabbed in the back."

"She won't stay long." Daryl said. "If you want, we'll send her packin' once we're done with her. For now, she oughta stay here."

Carley stormed down the stairs. She felt a tear forming in her eyeball as she once again imagined the bad scenarios that Lee could find himself in, her heart squished by an invisible force. But she suppressed it. _Crying is useless. It doesn't take you anywhere._

She headed towards the two men. "Rick, I'm going out there."

"What?" Rick asked.

"Daryl said that Lee escaped into the sewers." Carley said. Her throat felt dry like sand but she made an effort to talk normally. "Why wait for him to come to us? Why not go out there and find him? We know where he is."

"That area's gonna be crawlin' with walkers." Daryl said.

"Then we ring a goddamned bell on the other side of town!" Carley said, accidentally letting her tone elevate. _Keep it together, Carley._

"Carley, maybe Lee and I don't always get along but I know him." Rick said. "Ever since the dead first started walking. And I know that he's clever. He won't let himself killed. Not by a walker, not by anything. He knows what he's doing."

Kenny wasn't sure of what kind of alcohol he was drinking – he didn't have the patience to read the label – but it sure was strong. He was already feeling like he was dozing off.

Kenny's drowsy eyes flickered around the house, until they rested upon Ben Paul. Like a punch to the gut, there was a fire welling up in his stomach. A combination of the harshly-downed liquor and the fire of rage. He jostled awake, the sluggishness disappearing. "Hey, you know what? I never got even with you!"

Ben Paul stared at Kenny with a pair of widened eyes. "W-What?"

"You were the fucker who friggin' killed my family!" Kenny vociferated, slithering onto his feet as his grip on the bottle tightened.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rick asked.

"I'll tell you what happened!" Kenny yelled, jabbing his finger towards the teenager. "Back at the farm, there was a walker who pinned Duck and Kat to the ground. That undead fucker was the bastard the bit my son! And this shit-for-brains right here, he watched it all happening! Didn't even try to help 'em!"

Kenny marched towards Ben, breathing heavily like a buffalo. Travis, who was healing up in a chair, hurtled onto his feet, but the pain shot up his leg like a sting, and his weight sent him crumbling to the ground like a bag of flour. Daryl and Rick put themselves in front of the redneck, cementing their stance. Kenny essayed to penetrate the wall they formed but the two men held him back with their arms.

"Get back!" Rick hollered.

"Wanna get down?! I fight better when I'm shit-faced!" Kenny spat, jerking his arm in the air.

"Fuckin' stop!" Daryl screamed.

Kenny coiled his arm, then spun it around, landing his elbow on Rick's cheekbone. Rick was caught off-guard and his head swung backwards, sending Rick to the ground. In an instinct, he tucked his arms in front of his chest before the fall. Stretched on the ground, Rick controlled his respiration, staring at the kitchen tiles. The warmth of the pain in his skull shifted into anger. He stiffened his fingers, scratching the ground with his fingernails. Daryl barely could hold Kenny back and T-Dog had to intervene to replace Rick.

There was only one solution.

"Fuck, are you alright?" Glenn asked, crouching and tugging Rick's shoulder.

Rick ignored his friend's touch. Rick got up slowly, but so calm that it even made Glenn feel a bit afraid. Once he was on his feet, Rick wobbled for a while, regaining his balance. In the background, Kenny's roars resounded in the house. Rick slithered his fingers towards the Colt Python sheathed in his waist holster, then took out the gun.

Ben Paul stood in the same position as ever, with his arms folded and his gaze, ashamed, avoiding Kenny's flaming glare. Travis used a wall to hoist himself up as the entire group viewed the scene like a macabre spectacle. Daryl and T-Dog seesawed like sea waves with Kenny's attempts at tackling them.

Rick gripped the revolver and elevated his arm, ready for the hit.

He struck Kenny in the back of the head with the handle of his revolver. His outcries ceased abruptly as his eyes rolled back in his head and his body became limp. Daryl and T-Dog grunted as they almost dropped Kenny on the ground, but in the end managed to hold him in their arms. Rick stood there, all eyes locked on him. With an austere expression, he put the revolver back into his holster and adjusted his belt with indifference.

"Take him upstairs." Rick said.

Daryl and T-Dog didn't nod. They dragged Kenny along the hallway, his feet scraping the floor with a screech.

"Quite a functional group you got here." Molly smiled, putting her hand on her hip.

Rick shot his eyes towards her. "Not the time."

Within the commotion, they hadn't noticed that someone was standing at the backdoor.

* * *

Lee dropped his jaw, looking at the scene unfolding inside the kitchen. It took a long time for Rick's gaze to fall upon him, to which his stern look stamped on his face softened. The rest of the group followed his gaze until they saw Lee, alive, standing there.

"Lee!" Carley gasped.

Carley dashed towards him and tethered him with his arms, almost knocking him over. "Hey, hey, easy girl. I'm okay."

"Dammit, I was worried sick." Carley said.

"Glad to have you back." Rick said with a glow. "I knew you'd…"

Rick narrowed his eyebrows once again, stopping his sentence. Lee was confused for a second, but then realized that he was staring at Vernon. "Lee, who the hell is this?!"

"This is Vernon, he's a doctor, he helped me get back there after we got separated." Lee said.

"And I gotta ask, what the hell happened here?" Vernon inquired.

"Yeah, Rick, why the hell is Kenny knocked out?" Lee asked.

"Kenny got drunk, got into an altercation with everyone, and I had to stop it." Rick said. "He'll be fine. He'll be awake in no time."

Christa came thundering down the stairs, making the wooden steps creak, with urgency resounding in her voice. "Lee, thank God you're back!"

"Christa, what's wrong?!" Lee demanded.

Christa jogged towards Lee, her chest inflating rapidly with fast breaths. "It's Omid. He's gotten worse. Much worse."

Lee sensed Vernon's confusion and turned to him to explain him. "We've got a man wounded."

Christa, who hadn't even noticed the new figure, now darted her gaze towards him. "Who's this?"

"A doctor Lee brought here, apparently." Rick said.

"Oh thank God!" Christa gasped. In normal circumstances, she would be reluctant seeing a stranger, but hearing the word 'doctor' immediately evacuated the suspicious out of her system.

"Could you take a look at him?" Lee asked.

"You have to help us! Please…?!" Christa begged, her shining eyes fixated on the doctor.

Vernon pondered for a few seconds, returning her stare. "I'll see what I can do. Take me to him."

Christa let out a breath of relief, whispering a relief word to herself, before leading Vernon and Lee up the stairs. They entered a bedroom, one with simple furniture and a king-sized bed, with Omid stretched on the mattress. His eyes were shut, he had probably drifted off to sleep.

"Omid, honey, you're going to be alright." Christa mumbled to him. "Lee brought a doctor."

"Alright, let's take a look at him." Vernon said with neutrality in his voice, sitting beside the bed. "I work better without an audience. I'm sure you've got more things to attend to."

Lee nodded and stepped out the room. He scratched his head, wondering what to do now. He recalled that he hadn't laid eyes on Clementine ever since he arrived back from the sewers. He was struck by a wave of worry. "Clementine?"

A shiver clawed in his spine when his call was without an answer._ Alright, don't panic. Maybe she didn't hear you. Don't make a big fuss about it. _Lee heard some noises in one of the bedrooms. _Maybe that's her. _

Lee entered the bedroom. Molly was lying on the ground, searching for something underneath the bed. Looking around the chamber, it was clear she had been busy. There were stacks of empty boxes in the corner and every drawer was pulled open.

"What are you doing?" Lee asked.

Molly grunted from the dust collected below the bed and then got up. "Oh, you know. Just poking around."

"You won't find anything, we already searched the place." Lee admonished, folding his arms. Molly shrugged, and went back to inspecting the dusty space below the bed.

"You'd be surprised with what people miss." Molly said. "Trust me, I've been doing this for a while."

Lee scanned the room. No sign of her. "Where's Clementine?"

Molly snorted. "Don't ask me, I'm not her keeper."

Lee clenched his fist at her bold answer. "Hey! Do I look like I'm in the mood to be jerked around? Where did she go?"

"Last I saw, she was downstairs with your group. Why don't you go bug them?" Molly said.

Lee didn't waste any more time with chit chat and waltzed out the room. He galloped down the stairs, the fear swelling in his chest like a cancer. He stopped in front of the living room. "Has anybody seen Clementine?"

Lee saw head shakes throughout the group. _Fuck, where can she be?! _Lee proceeded onto the backdoor, yanking it open and stepping into the backyard. He darted his eyes in all directions, and spotted the shed doors budging.

He headed towards them and set his hands on the handles. Taking a deep breath, he opened them.

He was pushed back and fell on the ground by someone on the interior. He recomposed himself, only to find Clementine standing there.

"Lee!"

Clementine grasped Lee with her arms, and Lee returned the hug with a smile.

"What were you doing in there?" He asked.

"Exploring." Clementine said. "And look! Look what I found!"

Lee got on his feet while Clementine slowly opened the shed door. When he saw what was inside, he was completely astonished. A boat.

"Whoah…"

"I know right?" Clementine said.

Kenny strolled into the backyard, rubbing the back of his head. He opened his mouth to ask what the ruckus was about, but then laid eyes on the treasure inside the shed. Lee glanced at him past his shoulder. He had a smile flowering in his lips. Hope began flushing back into his mind. He was as sober as he could be. He strolled towards the boat and began examining it.

* * *

The sun made its descent behind the endless neighborhoods of cookie-cutter mansions, bathing the streets with an intense orange glow and painting shadows on the pavement. Lee paced around the room, the entire group assembled in the salon like it was an operation room. Kenny was inspecting each nook and cranny of the boat, and it was nearly a damned hour he was at it.

_Why is he taking so damn long? _The most stressful thing was the silence. There was no sound, like if the world had stopped. It eased him a bit to hear Vernon coming down the stairs and sitting down next to Christa in a sofa. "Omid doing okay?"

"As well as can be expected, from the circumstances." Vernon said, folding his arms. "I did what I could for him, cleaned out the wound. But he's got a real infection, running a fever. Without antibiotics…"

"Will you quit pacing?" Molly said. "You're making everyone nervous."

"Why are you even still here?" Rick asked.

"Hey, if your friend really can get that boat working, you're taking me as payment for saving your asses. Figure that's fair enough, don't you?"

They cut their conversation when they heard the chirr of the back door opening. Kenny walked into the salon, palms in his hips and a hunkered head.

Lee had a feeling that something wasn't right. "Well?"

Kenny let out a sigh. "You want the good news or the bad news?"

"I figure we oughta get the bad news out of the way first." Lilly said.

"Bad news is she's not taking us anywhere the shape she's in right now." Kenny said. "Gas tank's empty and the battery's dead."

"So what's the good news?" Christa asked.

"That's it, that's all she needs." Kenny said. "Some gas and a battery. Other than that, she's good to go."

"Well, how are we supposed to get that stuff?" Maggie asked.

"We should go back out on the street, see what we can find." Lee said.

"That's not gonna work." Molly said. "Crawford took everything and brought it inside their walls. They siphoned every gas tank, stripped every battery. There's nothing left out there, you saw that for yourselves."

"She's right." Vernon said.

"I have an idea." Rick said. "What about this Crawford place? They seem like they'd have everything we'd need, we could try there."

Vernon lifted his head as he heard that word that was like a taboo. He stiffened his expression, his upper lip twitching. "Now hold on a minute…"

"Rick's right." Christa said, standing on her feet. "If there are still people in this city who have the stuff we need, what harm would it do to ask?"

"Trust me, you don't know these people." Vernon said. "I do. You showing up with a wounded man? Might as well put a noose around his neck. They don't exactly welcome children with open arms, either."

Christa let out a shocked breath. "What the hell kind of place are we talking about here?"

"The worst kind." Molly said. "But I don't see what other choice we have."

"And just how exactly do you figure we do this?" Kenny asked.

"We're armed, and we got the numbers." Rick said. "If we play our cards right, we can take what we want by force."

"Okay, that is literally the dumbest idea I have ever heard." Molly said. "Crawford's like a military base, they've got hundreds of people in there armed to the teeth, and that perimeter's guarded day and night. You're gonna have to be smarter than that."

"Maybe we can be." Vernon said. "I know the sewer system that runs through Crawford like the back of my hand. Y'all wouldn't happen to have a map by any chance?"

Lee had a flash of the map that he used with Clementine on the train, and fished inside his pocket. "Yeah, actually…"

Lee unfolded the map on the coffee table, the group members gathering to look at it. Vernon scrutinized it with his hand on his chin. He made a sound of acknowledgment and ran his finger through the map. "I think I could lead us through so we can pass under the perimeter and right into the center, where they keep their supplies. We come up right underneath them, take them by surprise, grab what we need and get out before they even knew what hit them!"

"Okay, that's not bad. That's better." Molly said.

"I've thought about it before, just never had the people to do it." Vernon said. "But I think that if we all work together, we could pull it off!"

"And what do you want in return for all this help you're givin'?" Rick asked.

"Crawford doesn't just have what you need for your boat, they're also well-stocked with medical supplies. Medicine that my people could use, just as yours."

"We can do this. We have to!" Christa said.

"So, this for real? We going to Crawford?" Kenny asked.

"We can do it. I know it." Lee said.

"Are we seriously talking about this? I mean, what about the risk?" Ben Paul asked.

"Just shut up, chicken shit, before I knock you out cold." Kenny said. "That boat out there is an answered prayer, we just have to push a little harder."

"We should go tonight, under cover of dark." Vernon said. "I'll go let my people know, give you all a chance to prepare. I'll be back before midnight."

"Be careful." Christa said.

Vernon halted his sauntering for a second to look at her past his shoulder. "That's how I'm still alive."

"We can't take a lot of people into a sneak mission." Lee said, after hearing Vernon leaving the house. "I'll take Molly, T-Dog and Kenny."

"I should go too." Rick said.

"No, you should stay here and hold down the fort." Lee said. "And as I said, we can't take too many people. We can do this."

Lee spun around and walked out the salon, feeling Rick beaming his gaze on him. Lee rubbed his temples. _God, I hope this doesn't go awry. _Then, there was something that caught his attention, in his peripheral vision. He turned his head and saw Clementine sitting on the stairs, her legs dangling between the railing bars.

"I told you to stay in your room. How long have you been there?" Lee asked.

"Is it going to be dangerous?" Clementine said.

"Is what going to be dangerous?"

"Crawford."

"I can't lie to you, Clem." Lee said. "Yeah, it's gonna be dangerous. But it's the only way to get the things we need to make Omid better, and get the boat working. That's why we have to do this. Do you understand?"

Clementine lowered her head. "I don't want anyone else to die."

"Neither do I, Clem. But sometimes you have to take that kind of risk."

Clementine nodded. Lee smiled, and started heading up the stairs. She grappled the railing and slithered onto her feet. "I guess I should go get ready."

Lee halted like there was an invisible wall in front of him, with spanned eyelids. "Say what now?!"

"You said I'm a big help, remember?" Clementine said. "And maybe I can help you. Molly said that Crawford is the only place in Savannah that still has people. That means that it must be where my mom and dad are, right?"

"Where I'm going, it's just too dangerous. Especially for children."

"You said I'm always supposed to stay close to you. Can't I come with you?"

Lee processed her request. He had no desire to put her in such a risk, and while he didn't want to admit it, he didn't think they would find her parents. But she really seemed convinced and he didn't want to sadden her. _Fucking hell. _"Okay, you can come. But you have to promise to stay quiet and do what you're told the whole time we're there."

"Okay, I'm gonna go get ready." Clementine said with enthusiasm, rushing up the stairs.

Lee sighed and shook his head. _What the hell have I done?_


	46. The Prey And The Hunter

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 46 – THE PREY AND THE HUNTER**

Lee stepped outside into the humid breeze. The stark contrast of the lit candles inside the mansion and the obscurity outside rendered him blind for a few seconds, before his pupil adapted. The night was quiet. The calm before the storm. Molly ran her eyes through the map, while Rick and T-Dog were loading magazines into handguns. Kenny was rummaging through a toolbox, each move of his hands causing a clank. The shed door was closed though. Lee scratched his head.

"I'm going too."

Lee turned around as Carley said those words. "What?"

"Hey, I already left you go out there alone once and you nearly got yourself killed." Carley said, with a reprehensive stare. "I'm going and you can't talk me out of it."

Lee caressed her hand with a smile. "I wasn't going to talk you out of it."

Carley grinned. "Good then. I'll go get some ammo from T-Dog."

Lee looked as Carley strolled away. It was amazing that before the outbreak his love life was a wreck and only after such a catastrophe occurred he had found someone so perfect for him. He guessed that she also never had a steady relationship, due to the trips she took to do her news reports. _I guess the end of the world also brings out the best in people._

"Check out what I found." Kenny said. "Hatchet, hacksaw, some other tools. Might come in handy in this little break-in."

"Nice." Lee said.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Lee nodded and turned to Clementine, indicating her to stay put. She assented with the fey comprehension the two shared. Lee and Kenny sauntered away from the others, into a secluded corner. Lee felt his curiosity increasing when Kenny glanced past his shoulders multiple times.

"What's up?" Lee asked.

"The boat, it's a 30-footer." Kenny whispered.

"So?"

"So we're gonna have a capacity problem. Boat that size ain't gonna hold more than five people, even as a kid." Kenny said, hands in his hips and pacing in circles.

"Shit…" Lee breathed. "That why the door is closed?"

"I didn't want anyone to look at the boat before we come up with a solution." Kenny said. "I thought we could put the kids on board with one adult, but we got five kids in the group. When the time comes, we're gonna have to make a decision."

"You're not serious." Lee said.

"Look, I'm just saying, if we want the best chance of…"

Kenny pulled the plug on their conversation as the gate opened with a squeak. Lee recognized Vernon, but he had Brie along with him. Kenny didn't waste a minute being inquisitive about the new face. "Who the hell is this?"

"This is Brie, she can help us." Vernon said.

"Help us how?" Lee asked.

"I was a student at the school where Crawford keeps their supplies. I know the layout." Brie said.

"With her help we're in and out faster. Anyone have a problem with that?" Vernon asked.

"I guess not." Lee said.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Molly said, sliding on her hoodie. "Let's get moving."

"Hold up a sec." Lee said, then turning to Clementine. "You ready?"

"Yes." Clementine nodded.

"Whoa, hold on a minute. You're not taking her with us." Vernon said.

"This isn't up for a debate, Vernon. The decision's made." Lee said.

"For what it's worth, I don't think it's a great idea either." Molly said.

"Lee, they right, really wanna risk her life?" T-Dog asked.

"She's coming. Deal with it."

"You heard the man. Let's move out." Kenny said.

"Be careful, guys. Good luck." Rick said, watching them walk out the gate.

* * *

Vernon led the group through the tight sewers, without a word being pronounced. The steps did the talking for them, bouncing around in the air in the form of echoes. Carley and Clementine strolled beside him, and the three often exchanged a steadfast gaze. Lee checked his watch. _Probably not a lot of time left to reach Crawford._

Vernon stopped, creating a chain reaction in the group resulting in their halt. They were standing in front of a ladder, arising to the ground level. "This should be it. We're right underneath the center of Crawford, the old school should be directly above us."

"Okay people, this is it." Lee said. "Remember the plan. We go in hard, hit them by surprise, grab what we need and get the hell out. We need to do this fast. So everybody stay sharp, stay alert and stay close together. Got it?"

Lee eyed each person standing in front of him, each nodding in reply. He looked at Clementine. "And that part of staying close? That goes double for you."

Lee took the lead, climbing up the ladder. He put his palm on the manhole and raised it just enough to open a thin gap, not thicker than a needle. He rotated his head at full angle. He let out a curious grunt – the roads were deserted. He was expecting to see pairs of feet walking in the street, but there was nothing. He set the manhole aside and mantled onto the post-apocalyptic burg.

Lee crouched and hid behind a tall building, the shadow camouflaging him. He peeked over his shoulder. The ensemble of people followed him with fluid steps, like water in a river. Vernon had a feeling of dread itching at the back of his head. He knew that the community always had guards during the night and the scene was surreal to him, like a bizarre dream. "Where is everybody? There should be guards patrolling."

"What? Are you disappointed?" Kenny wisecracked.

"It's just strange, is all."

"Think again, one over there." T-Dog said.

T-Dog pointed towards the middle of the avenue with his finger. Lee followed his indication with his gaze. There was a man standing in the open. Lee took out his hatchet. "Okay, me and Kenny will take this guy out. On my signal the rest of you follow us over. Everybody got it? Okay, Kenny, let's do this quiet. No shooting unless there's no other choice."

"Right behind you." Kenny nodded.

Lee creeped towards the man, tiptoeing like a cat. He held his breath like it was an instinct, his muscles stiffening, preparing him for the kill. With a lump of adrenaline growing on his chest, he reeled his arm to swing the blade, but then everything changed. The guard turned his head an inch, showing his face. His eyes were milky and its skin grey as mold. The guard opened his mouth but only a moan came out.

"What the fuck?!" Lee shouted.

The walker lunged towards him. Lee jumped back and swooped the hatchet. The blade ruptured the walker's skull in half. The lurker became immobile like a rag doll. Lee yanked out his weapon and it fell on the ground at his feet. Lee glanced past his shoulder toward his friends. Kenny seemed nonchalant, as if nothing had happened, but the rest had puzzled expressions stamped on their visages.

"What the fuck is a walker doing here?!" Carley muttered.

The answer to her question came a few seconds after. Familiar growls braided into the air, then the scraping of something being dragged along the asphalt. There were aggregations of walkers stumbling into view, flooding the streets like an inundation. The group sprang their heads in all directions, scanning for an escape route but the walkers had walled them off already from around every corner.

"Get inside, fast!" Lee commanded.

Lee bolted towards the highschool, the others chasing after him. Lee and Kenny held the doors open, allowing them to rush inside one by one. When Vernon, the last of them, passed through, they entered the edifice and shut the doors.

The despairing moaning became muffled like a distant memory outside the building. The group spent one second catching their breath before Brie waved at them, pinpointing the staircase. The group thundered up the stairs, ignoring their muscles that were burning from exhaustion. They ceased their sprint once they reached the second floor. Lee leaned his arms on his knees, panting.

"Fuck! Fuck! Do you think they saw us?" Kenny said.

"Definitely." Lee said.

"What the hell happened here?" Carley said. "I thought this place was supposed to be secure."

"What always happens, I guess." Molly said. "In the end, the dead always win."

"This is good." Vernon said.

"Man, how any of this any good?!" T-Dog asked.

"Before, everyone in Crawford was smart and had guns." Vernon said. "Now they're dumb and they don't. Hey, trying to look on the bright side here."

"Vernon's right." Lee said. "I'd rather fight against walkers than armed guards."

"I agree." Kenny said. "As long as we don't let them box us in, we can still do this. The plan hasn't changed."

"C'mon, I think I know which way to head." Brie said.

The group walked through the vacant hallways. Lee dropped his jaw, contemplating the messy artwork – doors barred with cardboard, red crosses painted on most of the entrances, douses of blood bespattered on the walls. Lee slowed his pace when he heard more growls coming from behind the doors.

"Just keep moving." Molly said.

Brie stopped in front of a classroom. "Here."

Lee opened the door and peeked inside. _No walkers._ "Looks okay. Everybody in."

* * *

Rick stared out the window, forehead glued to the cold glass and half-asleep. The moon was shining, an asunder beacon of light. The residents of the mansion slept, or tried to, in any furniture available, whether it was a bed, a chair, a table or the bathtub. But it was obvious no one would be getting a lot of sleep that night. How could they rest when they knew their friends might not return in the morning?

The silence was fractured when a bell started ringing far away. Like a wakeup call, everyone threw aside their blankets and got up.

"What the fuck?" Rick said.

"I'm not sure that was part of their plan." Andrea said.

"No, it wasn't."

"Whoever's ringing that bell, it's coming from up north." Daryl said.

"Looks like we ain't all alone around here." Maggie said.

"Think they might be in trouble?" Glenn asked.

"Don't know." Rick said. "I think Lee would be sensible not be ringing bells at night."

"It doesn't make any sense. No one would stay out there at dusk, much less be attracting this kind of attention." Lilly said.

They stayed silent, clueless. The group was huddled in the living room. The bell kept resounding through the town. Rick turned towards the window. He stared outside, but after a few seconds, several flocks of walkers swarmed the streets, marching like an uncoordinated army. They limped past the windows, their bodies drawing shadows on the carpet. Some of them turned their heads, looking inside the house, their hollow gaze locking on Rick's.

"Shit!" Rick said.

The walkers halted, spinning towards the window and throwing their fists at it. They rubbed their jaws against it, like if they could take a bite out of the humans through it. More lurkers started to notice them like a chain reaction. Rick dashed towards the window, grasped the curtains and closed them with a swift motion.

"Shit, they saw us." Christa said.

"Some of them at least." Rick said.

"What are we gonna do now?" Travis asked.

"We just keep quiet. Don't let them know we're in here. Maybe they'll move on."

"Just who the hell is ringing that bell?" Lilly spattered.

"Keep the tone down." Rick said. "I have no idea."

"What if the guy who's doing us wanted us to get pinned inside?" Travis said.

"What?" Christa said.

"Makes sense, no?" Travis said. "Like Lilly said, everyone knows that getting the walkers this stirred up at night is a freaking dumb move to make. What if it's that guy on the radio?"

Rick glanced at Travis and back at the group. "It does make sense."

"Man, this is bullshit." Daryl said. "We can't just sit here. Those walkers are gonna keep piling up and before we know it they'll be tearing this place apart. We gotta go find that asshole and take him out."

"That's exactly what we'll do. Me and Daryl, we're gonna head out. We'll find the guy and make him stop."

"It might be dangerous, you guys sure you wanna do this?" Andrea enquired.

"We have to." Rick said. "Don't worry. We'll be back before you know it."

Rick revolved his head around the room. _Lori and Carl ain't here. _Rick headed up the stairs and saw his wife standing at one of the bedroom doors, her arms on Carl's shoulder. Carl had heavy eyes – Rick guessed he'd been slumbering until the bell started ringing.

"Why do you always have to put yourself on the line?" Lori asked.

"It's for our sake, Lori." Rick said. "I know it's frightening whenever you see me walking out the door…but I always come back. Always. There ain't nothing in this world that will stop me from coming back for you."

He planted a kiss on her forehead, then proceeded towards the backyard with Daryl.

The second they stepped outside, they descended onto a crouching stance. In the veil of the night, beyond the metal fence, there were phantasmagoric silhouettes moseying about, a faint grouse emitted from them. Rick reckoned that they might have been capable of dealing with them.

"Let's pass through the shed." Rick said.

The two sneaked towards the shed, the grass absorbing the drub of their footing. Daryl reached out to the handle and schlepped the door. Rick shut the door behind them, submerging them in the dark. No light pierced the shack, but he knew the boat would be in there. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't given it a look yet. Rick extracted a flashlight from his pocket and turned it on, casting the light towards the center.

"Wait, what the fuck…?" Rick mumbled.

His jaw dropped once he laid a sight on the boat. Daryl let a breath exit his mouth but otherwise he kept a straight face. Rick didn't expect it to be a yacht, but the thing was minuscule compared to what he imagined.

"This the boat Kenny was ramblin' about? Pfft." Daryl chuckled.

"Dammit, I thought we would finally be able to get the hell away from everything." Rick said. "Y'know what, just forget about it. We got other shit on our hands right now."

Daryl nodded and opened the door leading into the road. He peeked through the gap. Each boulevard was full of walkers and he didn't spot a single opening in the masses. "How do we do this?"

"We ain't got time to pick 'em off." Rick said. "We'll run. Take out any that come close."

"Alright."

Daryl looked at Rick as the latter slid the revolver out from his holster, thumping the handle with his fingertips. Daryl shoved the door open and started sprinting, brandishing his crossbow. One of the creatures snapped its head towards him. He squeezed the trigger and the arrow sprang away, gashing through its eyeball.

* * *

The classroom, once a place of innocence and knowledge, had been militarized like the rest of the community. The chalkboard had a blueprint of the school scribbled on it, there were sheets of paper everywhere with that same numbered insignia that was all over Savannah. The door on the end of the room had the word 'ARMORY' written over a childish drawing of two kids.

Lee tried the door. Locked. "Figures."

Kenny looked at the board. "Looks like they were using this room as some kind of command center."

"Okay, so now what? Where do we start looking?" Molly asked.

Silence crumbled upon the room. The blueprint on the board was like a foreign language to them, since it was quite simplistic and schematized. Brie looked at the wall and spotted another map attached to it, one that was captioned and easier to understand. "Here."

All gazed turned towards the map while Brie inspected it. "Just give me a sec…"

"Where would be the best place to look for medicine?" Carley asked.

"Right here." Molly said, pointing at a small square. "Nurse's station, they were using it as a medical facility."

"How do you know that?"

Molly bit her lip. "Just makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Where can we find some fuel for the boat?" Lee asked.

"There's a maintenance shed across from the playground here." Brie said. "If they were storing fuel that's probably where they'll be."

"So we just need a battery. This autoshop, it's right next door?"

"Yup, it's called Herman's, you can't miss it."

"Okay, I'll make the run to the maintenance shed for the fuel." Kenny said.

"It'll be faster if I go with you, I can take you right to it." Brie said.

"I'll go too." T-Dog said.

"No, two of us is enough." Kenny said. "You stay here and you see if you can make use of any of those tools we brought to break into the armory. We might have to shoot our way out of here."

"Why are you giving that task to T-Dog? Think he might be able to break into the armory because he's urban?" Lee smiled.

"What?" T-Dog asked.

"Nothing, forget about it." Kenny said.

"I'll go for the medicine, I'll know what to take." Vernon said.

"Guess that leaves to me to go fetch the battery." Lee said.

"I'll go with you, watch your back." Molly said.

"No, you go with Vernon." Carley said. "I'll go with Lee."

"Okay, we've got a plan." Lee said. "Everyone be careful, stay close to one another, we'll all meet back here. Good luck."

Clementine sat behind a desk while the others headed for the door, their respective tasks in mind. But they halted once they heard the echo of a bell. Lee frowned. It was far away, but to him it was odd to hear a bell at night. More importantly, who could be doing it?

"What the…" Lee mumbled.

"It doesn't matter." Carley said. "We have to focus on what we're here to do."

"But what if that's the group? What if they in trouble?" T-Dog said.

"For all we know, it could be anybody else." Kenny said. "Plus, the walkers are fucking everywhere in the streets. Even if Rick and co were in trouble, we wouldn't be able to do anything about it. We stick to the plan, people. Now let's move out."

* * *

Rick didn't know for how long they had been running but it felt like hours. His lungs were burning and the muscles in his legs felt melted and soft. He was soaked in sweat, so whenever a breeze flew by, it felt like ice being pressed against his skin. He glanced behind him. They had outrun the hundreds of walkers but they would catch up to them. And even if they were far away, their orchestral growls echoed through the streets.

Daryl and Rick ducked behind a dumpster. The church stood mighty in front of them, the sharp towers erected high above the entire city, only its contours being visible in the faint moonlight. Rick rubbed his chin – the ringing had ceased.

"He ain't ringing that bell no more." Rick said.

"He must've heard the horde coming for him." Daryl said. "The fucker must be bolting."

"He might still be inside. Let's go, fast, if we wanna catch him!"

Rick and Daryl jogged towards the entrance with light footsteps. The two big doors were wooden giants erected in front of them, with a medieval aspect – splintered wood planks and iron handles. Daryl pushed them with his shoulder, while Rick raised his revolver and his flashlight.

The door squeaked as it scraped the floor. Rick turned on the flashlight, illuminating the room wherever he would aim his pistol. He advanced between the rows of benches, scoping out each corner. He held his breath as the air was stuffy – clouds of dust were revealed with the ray of light. Standing within those walls that seemed endless above him, he had a strange sensation. He grew up in a family of religious people, and while it didn't seem very important to him, he still had a regard for it. But seeing those paintings of saints and the sculpture of the crucified savior, it all seemed too banal and meaningless.

In a split second, the darkness was illuminated by a gun firing on the other side of the edifice. The blare created an echo that lasted a few seconds before dissolving into the air. Rick and Daryl dived onto the ground, the benches providing them cover. Rick peeped over the bench and fired back a couple of rounds. He switched the flashlight off.

"Fuck! You see him?!" Daryl whispered.

"Not really." Rick said.

Rick bit his lip. _This is bad. _They were blind and it was impossible to see their enemy. He had an idea, but he dreaded speaking, even in whispers, because the echo of the building made each sound they made louder.

"Daryl, sneak around the side." Rick said. "Flank him. I'll provide you cover if you need."

Rick sensed Daryl distancing himself. Rick flicked his eyes back and forth in the obscurity. Black, with abstract patterns floating in the void. He kept his eyes peeled and his ears open. Nothing. Another shot broke the silence. _He must be shooting toward Daryl. _Rick returned the fire, using the bright muzzle as reference. There were no screams. _I'm not hitting him. _

But then he heard the thumps of footsteps. Then, human grunts, like some kind of struggle. Rick advanced bench after bench. His heart nearly halted when he spotted something moving in his peripheral vision. The adrenaline pumped through his veins and things sped up. In less than a second, Rick swiveled around, raised the revolver and turned on the flashlight, wanting to blind his opponent.

Daryl was standing there, aiming his crossbow at a man who was kneeled at his feet. "I got him."

* * *

Daryl made a final knot on the rope, restraining the man to one of the church benches. He gave Daryl a sharp glance as he felt the rope tightening his wrists. Rick reloaded his Colt Python with calm, hoping to instill an eerily calm atmosphere between him and the captive. The man's silk, black trousers and his wrinkled office shirt were imprints of what he used to be before – a suit. But his stubble and messy hair contradicted the casual vibe he tried to emanate.

"What's your name?" Rick asked.

"Harlan." The man said, his tone.

Rick fished out of his pocket the wooden shiv that belonged to him. "You got quite an original arsenal."

"I make do." Harlan said.

"Why were you ringing that bell?" Rick asked.

"That's how I get around, I—"

Rick landed a fist on the man's cheek, his head to the side and making his saliva eject out of his mouth. "Don't bullshit me. I know you were ringing that bell for us! Why?!"

Harlan sketched a smile.

"This ain't getting us nowhere." Daryl said. "Let's just finish him off and go back."

"We need to know if there are more of them." Rick whispered to him, then turned back to Harlan.

"This is taking too much time." Daryl remarked. "Be quick."

Rick nodded. He needed to step up his game. He aimed the revolver at his kneecap. Harlan didn't flinch. But it was nothing but a mask. Interrogation was a specialty of his and knew that everyone cracked under a certain pressure. "Listen, Harlan, let's cut to the chase. I'm gonna ask you a question, and your answer will determine whether or not you'll end up with lead in your knees. Got it?"

"It doesn't matter what you do to me." Harlan said. "My group will be coming for me."

"Your group?"

"Yeah."

They were getting somewhere. Rick felt the urge to inquire about how many there were, but if he was smart, he wouldn't answer the question. He needed to provoke him. "Yeah, sorry to break it to you, but I doubt your little homo parade can take us on."

"Think all you want." Harlan said. "You've got something I want."

"And what would that be?"

Harlan chuckled. Rick narrowed his glare. "Stop fucking with me. Get to the point."

"You know, before the apocalypse, I was blind. We all were. But now it's crystal clear. That kind of lifestyle we were used to, hedonism, luxury, that was never the life we were meant to live…"

Rick pulled the hammer on his revolver back with his thumb. "I ain't got time for idiotic speeches!"

"…the life we led longtime ago, that was our true nature." Harlan continued. Rick wished he could pull the trigger, but he risked losing him and not getting any answers. "The primitive era was, is, our destiny. A prey and a hunter. That's our true nature, our true instincts. You hunted us, took us for prey…but now, we hunt you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Rick said. "Who the hell are you?!"

Harlan smirked once again. "You killed two of us, and took two more."

Rick's expression thawed. "Wait…you're…"

"My group and I, we call ourselves The Living."

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: I apologize once again for the delay. My life's been a mess really. And I'll admit I am at fault too, since I have been sometimes, maybe even too often, procrastinating. Yay. **

**I hope you enjoyed the twist with the Living. I thought I'd bring them back since I was getting bored because up until now it was basically following the storyline and I figured it'd be interesting to bring this group back, since the TV Show just forgot about them.**

**Also, the finale is approaching. I'm hoping to finish the third arc of this story in the 50****th**** chapter, to mark this milestone.**


	47. Killers

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 47 – KILLERS**

Rick opened the backdoor, announcing their return. Daryl tugged Harlan along, the tip of the crossbow caressing the man's back. Returning to the mansion had been a living hell, with the herds flooding the streets, so they had to make detours and circle around to get there.

Rick and Daryl stepped into the living room, with the prisoner.

"We've got a guest." Daryl said.

Heads turned towards the strange face, with enigmatic expressions. Travis didn't bother to see who it was. His entire body was sluggish and his leg was paining him as usual. Ben Paul pivoted his gaze slowly, in an robotic gesture, but his eyelids spanned open when his eyes locked on the man's.

"Holy shit…!" Ben muttered.

Travis frowned. "What?"

He turned his head towards them. It hit him like a brick wall. That smug jackass in the wrinkled shirt. Harlan smiled. "Nice to see you again."

Travis used his hands to erect himself, a flame lit in his heart. He felt like he had a knife fanged in his leg, but the rage was fiercer than the pain. He half-limped, half-marched towards the man, tightening his fist. "You motherfucker…!"

He whirled to the left, his arm swing drawing an arc in the air. His knuckle struck Harlan's check. He staggered backwards, toppling on the ground. Rick and Daryl pushed him back. "Hey, dude, calm down!"

Travis kept investing like a wild animal. Harlan was laying on the ground, a wide smile revealing his bloodied gums. Travis wasn't getting past the two men holding him back. He sprang his eyes in all directions. Glenn had a pistol holstered in his belt. Travis backed up, and with a swift motion, snatched the pistol from the Korean man.

Travis aimed the gun at Harlan, but Daryl grasped his wrist and shoved his arm in another direction. The gun went off. The blast bounced on the walls, everyone flinching and squatting down. The bullet landed on the ceiling. Daryl twisted the gun in his hand, shooting needles of pain through his fingers. Travis screamed and let the gun be taken from his hand.

He tried to stay on his feet, but this time it was too painful for him to withstand. He fell on the ground, groaning and clutching his calf. The entire group viewed the spectacle with a mix of awe and shock. Within twenty seconds, all of that chaos had ensued and there was little they did, or could have done, about it.

"Damn, Travis…" Ben said, crutching his friend back on the sofa. "Travis…you opened your wound."

Travis looked down. The lower right side of his trousers was soaked in a dark liquid. He slumped on the couch. He was warm and cold at the same time, sweating. Rick yanked the gun from Daryl's hand and gave it to Glenn. Glenn put it back in his belt, head low and cheeks blushing. Now the walkers were even louder, like a wild rave was going on outside.

"Good job, Travis. If the walkers didn't know we were here, they sure do know now. Daryl, let's take Harlan into one of the bedrooms." Rick said.

"Hershel, can—can you help him? He's bleeding." Ben stuttered.

Hershel sighed. "Let's get him upstairs too. We'll change his bandage."

* * *

The alleyway leading to the autoshop was quiet. They were blocked off by a metal fence, but they managed to jump over by climbing on the roof of a shed. The garage door was now visible. At the end of the alley, there were a few lonely lurkers shambling around, but they were stopped by a fence, albeit it was quite bent.

Lee pulled up the metal gate. He opened it up enough to form a chasm, but not enough to pass through. It didn't budge any further.

"Agh, locked." Lee said.

"And it doesn't seem like there's a secondary entrance." Carley said.

Lee scratched his head, searching for a solution. He stared at the end of the alley in a trance, which was shattered when a humanoid figure fell from the sky. He hopped back as a walker splattered on the ground, its gut splitting open and painting the concrete with grey organs. The bald zombie was dressed with medical clothes, of a pastel green. "What the…?!"

"Leave him! He's mine!"

Molly's voice rang out from the rooftop of the building next to them. She dangled from the ledge and then jumped down, taking out her pickaxe, a war expression stamped on her visage. Carley remained speechless – something was odd.

"What are you doing here? You were meant to be with Vernon." Carley asked.

Molly didn't respond or even glimpse at her. Molly thundered towards the fallen walker and launched a kick onto its ribcage, a disgusting crack resonating. She continued with more savage kicks, as the couple stared with their jaws suspended. Then, she proceeded the butchery with her pickaxe, slicing away at the undead doctor's spine. Her face was sprinkled with drops of blood. Lee had to stop this.

"Molly!" Lee shouted.

"What?!" Molly said, lurching her head back at him.

"He's dead."

Molly drew a heavy breath and got up, but hacked at the walker one last time. Carley and Lee exchanged a look, before the latter spoke up. "He's wearing medical scrubs. Maybe some kind of scientist or a doctor maybe?"

"Yeah, well, he ain't shit now. Did you find a way in?" Molly said.

"Yeah, but the garage door's jammed, can't raise it."

"You didn't answer me, why aren't you with Vernon?" Carley asked.

"The medicine cabinet was locked." Molly said. "It needs a digit code or something. He wanted to stay in the nursery and look around for anything useful. I thought I would come here, see if you needed help. And apparently, you need it."

Molly reached into her backpack and took out an object. It was a car jack.

"Oh yeah. That'll work."

Lee grabbed the object. He spun around, and saw that the commotion wasn't unnoticed. The few walkers behind the fence were clawing at the fence, scaling it and putting their weight on it. The fence was bending even more, giving in, until it was touching the ground. The lurkers tumbled onto the alleyway.

"Shit." Lee said.

"C'mon!" Molly said.

Lee lifted the door as high as he could, then jammed the car jack underneath it. He kneeled down and swiveled the crank as fast as he could, as if it was a jack-in-the-box. Carley looked back at the dead doctor. _The medicine cabinet is locked. Maybe he has the combination. _Carley jogged towards the cadaver and searched inside its pockets. She took out a paper with five letters written on it and a cassette. She put them in her pocket. The walkers curled its fingers. _It's still alive. _

"Carley!" Lee screamed.

Carley sprang around as the walkers were halfway from getting to them. The car jack had raised the door enough to create a crawlspace. Molly wriggled her way in. Carley ran towards the door and squeezed herself through the door after Lee.

* * *

Inside the autoshop there were metal cabinets with tools in each corner. Carley felt relieved when she saw that there were two vehicles in there. There was a semi-truck and a four-seat car, although the latter was out of their reach, raised by a lift. The moonlight pierced the garage through the skylights installed on the ceiling.

Lee and Molly kept their gazes on the crawlspace, through which they saw pairs of feet trekking outside. "Take a look around. I'll make sure no stragglers get under this door."

Carley opened the hood of the semi-truck. There were several slots, each one with parts of the engine, but there was an empty slot in the place of the battery. "I see where the battery should be, but isn't."

"Shit." Molly said.

Lee investigated the car, looking up. There was a red light blinking on the windshield. Maybe it was an antitheft system._ Good chance there's a battery in there. _The control box was situated next to him. He guessed nothing would happen, due to the lack of power, but pressed the button anyway. _Nothing. _He examined the controls once again. _Maybe there's a manual lever to lower it? _He didn't find such, but there was a hose that stretched all the way to the lift. _Worth a try._

He walked toward Molly. "What was all that about back there?"

"He came at me up on that rooftop, tried to take a bite out of me, so I took care of business." Molly said. "What, you got a problem with me killing geeks?"

"No, it just seemed like you went to town on him a little more than you needed to."

"Hey, you never really know when those things are all the way dead. I was just making sure. Look, you want to get this battery or not? Time's wasting."

"What do you think happened to Crawford?"

"Don't know, don't care. As far as I'm concerned, these fuckers got what was coming to them."

"Not a lot of sympathy for all the people who died here, eh?"

"I have as much for them as they did for the sick and the old and anyone else they didn't think was fit to belong in their little paradise. So yeah, fuck them."

"Mind if I borrow that hook thing of yours?"

"I don't know, Hilda and I have been through a lot together."

"Hilda?"

"That's what I call her. Don't judge."

"Please can I borrow Hilda? I'll take good care of her, she won't get a scratch."

Molly gave him the pickaxe. "I got your promise now. Not a scratch."

Lee nodded, returning to the control box. He slit the hydraulic hose, the liquid leaking from the hole. Lee smiled as the lift started coming down slowly. But as more liquid poured from the hose, the lift crashed on the ground in a quick and loud motion, triggering the blaring antitheft alarm.

"That's probably not good!" Molly said.

"No shit!" Carley said.

Molly bit her lip. The walkers outside were swinging their fists at the door, some of them kneeling down and sliding their arm inside. "I'll try to hold 'em off! Hurry!"

Molly sprinted to get her pickaxe then returned to the door. Lee popped the hood open and sighed. The battery was there. "There's the battery! Finally something goes right!"

Lee detached the terminals and yanked the battery off. "I got it!"

"Yeah, but we still got a problem here." Carley said.

Molly kicked the car jack, but it didn't budge. "Put it in here, I'll carry it!"

Lee unzipped her backpack and dropped it inside, closing it afterwards. "Okay, follow me."

Molly and Carley climbed on top of the semi-truck, via a ladder nailed on the vehicle's side. Lee glanced past his shoulder before climbing. There were half a dozen walkers that had already crawled through, and more were coming. By the time the three were on top of the truck, an entire horde had assembled, battering their fists against the vehicle, making it wobble. They gawked down, careful not to lose their balance.

"Great. Now what?" Lee said.

Molly looked towards the ceiling. "Skylight."

Carley whipped out her handgun and fired a round, shattering the glass. Molly leaped up and got a grip on the rooftop, with the aid of her pickaxe. Once she mantled up, she hung her hand down for them. One by one, they escaped the autoshop.

Lee got on his feet and wiped his trousers, getting his bearings. There were, as usual, moving shadows in the streets of Crawford. The building they stood on was surrounded by a multitude of edifices, all of them similar. "Okay, so now we're in a roof."

"Do you ever stop complaining? C'mon." Molly said.

Molly sprinted towards the edge of the roof and jumped, hooking the pickaxe on the ledge of the neighboring rooftop, then hoisted herself up. Lee and Carley exchanged an hesitating look.

"C'mon, what are you, chicken? Jump."

"What did you call me?" Lee said, then looking at the abyss between the two buildings. "Now that you mention it…"

"Lee, it's too dangerous, let's just find another route." Carley said.

"There isn't one!" Molly shouted. "Now c'mon and hurry!"

Lee ran, and once his foot was on the end of the roof, he took a leap of faith. Molly's hand grasped his and she pulled him up. Carley was the only one left. Even in the distance, Lee saw her dreadful expression. "I'll grab you! Don't worry."

"Fuck me." Carley said, pinching her nose bridge.

Lee prepared himself as he saw Carley dashing across the rooftop. She leapt and he stretched out his arm, grasping her with all of his strength and hoisting her up. "I got you."

Lee heaved her onto the rooftop. Carley fell on her derriere, drawing heavy breaths. "I'm not…doing that…ever again.

* * *

"So, who was that guy?" Lilly asked.

The whole group was congregating in the living room, standing in front of Rick. "He was the one who was ringing the bell. We thought he was alone, but we got some intel out of him and apparently the problem is much bigger. He was part of the same group as Dave and Tony."

There were gasps throughout the group, but Christa donned a puzzled expression. "Who's Dave and Tony?"

"Back when we still lived in Hershel's farm." Rick said. "One day, Hershel, Lee, Glenn and me were in this bar. Those two guys walked in through the door. They seemed nice for a while but then turned on us, tried to kill us. Ben and Travis come from his group. They left the two of them behind. But we killed three of them and now they're back for revenge."

"We should leave." Maggie said. "His group oughta come for him."

"That's what he said." Rick said. "But I don't know if they're in Savannah already. I wouldn't bet on this guy acting alone."

"Then let's wait for Lee and the group to come back, then we'll go." Andrea said.

"But where will we go next?" Carol asked.

"That's easy, we'll take the boat out onto the open sea and try to find someplace safe." Christa said.

Rick and Daryl exchanged a sharp glance. Daryl took the courtesy to say what was going through their mind. "You can scrape that option off the list."

"What do you mean?" Lori asked.

Rick scratched his head, unable to formulate a good way to put it. "Well, you see, before we went to the church, we took a peek at the boat. It's not going to take us anywhere."

"But Kenny fixed it, right?" Lilly said.

"He did, but the boat is small." Rick said. "It'll take about five of us. And we're not splitting the group, so just forget about the boat."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Larry berated. "That boat is our salvation! You're just going to toss it aside?!"

Lilly did a mental count of all of the kids in the group. "Dad, Rick is right. We can't split up the group. We can't even put all of the kids on board."

"But…" Billy Greene said.

"We're not splitting the group!" Lilly repeated.

Billy Greene lowered his head, his lip twitching.

"You heard her." Rick said. "Anyone got a problem with that?"

"What do our opinions even matter?" Billy Greene said. "It's not like this is a democracy anymore, right?"

Rick sent a wave of fire towards him with his gaze.

* * *

The trio voyaged back, sticking to the roofs. At one point, the rooftop of the highschool was crumbled, the rift leading into the hallway they had come from. The hole had formed a long time ago, visible from the ramifications of leaves dangling down. Carley and Lee jumped down first, landing amongst hunks of debris.

"C'mon." Lee said.

"Later. Something I gotta do first." Molly said.

"What?" Carley said.

"Catch you later."

"Wait, you've still got the battery." Lee said.

"Yeah, I think I'll hold on to it, make sure you don't leave without me. See you back in class!"

"Molly!" Lee screamed but she was long gone.

"What the hell is she doing?" Carley said.

"Anyway, let's just go back."

"I can't believe she just took off with the battery." Carley said, as the two strolled. "Dammit, I don't trust her."

"She's tough, trust me, she'll be back." Lee said.

"I hope you're right. But honestly, I don't trust her."

"What? Why?"

"She's unstable, Lee. Did you see how she went berserk on that walker? Almost felt personal. I'm sure she knows more than she's telling. What're you planning to do with her after we're done here?"

"What do you mean? She's coming with us if she wants to."

"I don't trust her. We need to be careful with the people we find, and Molly just has a bad vibe about her, like she could betray us at any time. She even took our battery!"

"Listen, say all you want about her, but she won't betray us." Lee said. "She saved us back on that alley. She's trustworthy."

Carley snorted. "Can't believe you're taking her side and defending her."

"I'm not…"

Kenny and Brie burst through the double doors, their hands encumbered with jerricans. Behind them, a horde of walkers were just a few feet from their reach. Kenny dropped the jerricans and a hatchet on the ground. "A little help here!"

Kenny and Brie shut the doors as Lee and Carley dashed to help them. But they didn't close them in time. The walkers tackled the doors, but Lee kept them from opening all the way. The four of them managed to push them further, but were unable to shut them when one of the zombies stuck its head between them. Its face was just inches away from Lee's.

"Fuck, doors won't close all the way!" Kenny said.

"Do something!" Brie shouted.

Carley whipped out her pistol and shot the walker poking its head in. It fell backwards, vanishing into the sea of zombies. They thrust once again, this time shutting them, but the walkers shoving on the other side were still a menace.

"Brace the door with something!" Brie said.

Lee picked up the hatchet and slid it between the door handles. They backed away from the doors, still moving but remained closed. "Think it'll hold?"

"It'd damn well better." Kenny said.

"There's so many of them…" Brie said.

"How did they follow from downstairs?" Carley asked.

"They didn't." Kenny said. "Bastards were lurking on this floor, stumbled into them on our way back."

"You got the fuel!" Lee said, as Kenny picked up the jerricans.

"Let's not start high-fiving each other just yet. Let's get the hell back to the classroom. Give us a hand with these fuel cans, they weigh a goddamn ton."

* * *

Rick stopped in front of the doorstep of the bedroom. It was the chamber that had been turned into a cell for the prison. Harlan raised his head, spotting Rick there, observing him. "I heard your debate downstairs."

"Good. You'll be the first to know when your death sentence is issued."

Rick dragged a seat and sat in front of the man, leaning his chest on the back of the chair.

"I'm supposing you didn't come here just to say hi."

"No." Rick said. "I came here to warn you. You are not the first people we've come across with. People who defied us. Ask them how that turned out for them. They're all either limping in the streets or have a bullet in their heads. I'm only going to tell you this once. You can back away. My group and I will leave. We'll never cross paths again and I won't go after you unless you show your face again."

"I could lie, Rick. But both you and me know that won't happen." Harlan said.

Rick narrowed his brow. "Then we are going to kill each and every one of you."


	48. Risk

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 48 – RISK**

The mansion was like an old haunted building, with its inhabitants being silent ghosts stuck in an idle state of life, a dusty ambience of gloom lurking in the air and the space devoid of any light, since the windows were blanketed by the curtains. Outside, there were sanity-breaking gnarls, of the creatures who were stuck in an abstract realm between death and life.

Chuck got his guitar, strumming a few cords. "How about a lil' tune to enliven the spirit?"

Hershel smiled and turned to Maggie and Beth. "How about you sing that song you used to sing when you were little?"

"The Parting Glass?" Beth said.

"Yes."

"C'mon, we can sing it together." Maggie said.

"The Parting Glass it is." Chuck said.

Chuck shifted the melody, playing the one song. Maggie and Beth waited for a few seconds, before ensuing with their duet.

"_Of all the money that ere I had, I spent it in good company. And of all the harm that ere I've done, alas was done to none but me. And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I cannot recall. So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all._"

Their voices of the girls combined together formed an angelic chant, while Chuck accompanied them, strumming the melancholic tune. The three musicians looked up at the group. Most of the group was staring blankly into the walls, not paying attention, but as the song progressed they raised their gaze towards them and even a few smiles germinated here and there. Rick smirked towards Lori, who replied in the same way. Rick set his head on her shoulder, feeling her fingers massaging his hair.

"_Of all the comrades that ere I had, they're sorry for my going away, and of all the sweethearts that ere I had, they wish me one more day to stay, but since it falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not, I will gently rise and I'll softly call, "Goodnight and joy be with you all!"_"

Harlan listened to the muffled singing from the dark room upstairs. He squirmed around with the rope around his wrists, but they were tight. _That redneck bastard did a good song. _He sighed and cursed under his breath and gave up. He let the obscurity and loneliness of the room sink into him.

Downstairs, the song seemed to thin out the ennui and the despair, hypnotizing the whole room. But Rick was level-headed. He snapped out of the trance, straightened his posture. The cries of the walkers outside grew bigger, almost like an orchestra accompanying the performance.

"_Oh, if I had money enough to_…"

"Stop. They're getting agitated out there." Rick said.

The silence and gloom crumbled once again upon them, the lurkers outside reminding them that they still lived in a shithole world and they were determined to not let them have any glimpse of joy. Glenn exhaled a breath. "Talk about killjoy."

Doug sat in the dining room, in front of the sturdy table. He fumbled around in Harlan's satchel. He found a map – with the location of the Living marked, quite an oversight – along with some loose bullets, maybe nine millimeters. But what caught his attention was when he found a rocket, the same used for fireworks spectacles.

* * *

Lee, Carley, Kenny and Brie walked into the classroom. They set down the jerricans, sighing and wiping their foreheads. T-Dog was still trying to break into the door. Clementine saw them standing by the door, and hopped off her chair. "You're back!"

"Yeah, and we made out pretty good too." Kenny smiled.

"Great work, Kenny." T-Dog said.

"How you doing with that door?"

"Kinda difficult."

"Here, let me give you a hand." Kenny said. "You get that battery yet?"

"Yeah, Molly has it, she should be here soon." Lee said.

"She'd better be."

Lee looked around the room. Brie was examining a map of the town, Kenny and T-Dog were trying out their different tools on the armory door, and Carley was reloading her magazine. _Looks like I got some time. _Lee approached Clementine, who was sitting on a school desk, stoic, as if she was a well-behaved student.

"You okay, Clem?"

"Yeah." Clementine said. "This desk is just like the ones we have in my school. I know it'd weird, but I kinda miss it. Being in school."

"Really?" Lee said. "I would have thought school would be the last thing you'd miss about all this."

"No, I liked it."

"What was your favorite subject?"

"History."

"Well what do you know? Mine too."

"Where's Molly?"

"She had to go run an errand, she'll be back soon."

"I hope she's okay."

"She'll be fine. She's pretty tough."

"Do you think things will ever be normal again? Just like the way they were before?"

"I don't think so, Clem." Lee said. "I think the best we can hope for is that we'll find a way to survive, to stay together and to not let this change us. That's what's important."

"I guess you're right."

Lee turned to Carley. "I'm gonna go check on Vernon, he might need help in the nursery."

"Right behind you." She said, slapping the clip into her handgun.

"Be careful, though." Kenny said. "We think maybe we might not be so alone around here."

"What do you mean?" Lee asked.

Kenny and Brie swapped a heavy glance, like two kids who witnessed something shocking and wondered if they should tell anyone. The woman spoke. "When we went to get the fuel, we thought we saw someone running. Just be careful."

Lee remained still for a few seconds before nodding. "Okay."

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" Rick asked.

"I just had an idea to lure away the walkers." Doug said.

Rick leaned in closer. "I'm listening."

"What we need is something loud enough to lure them away somewhere else, and this is the key to do it." Doug said, showing the rocket.

Rick quirked an eyebrow. "A rocket?"

"If we set it off a high point in the city, it'll be quite loud, not to mention that the flashing lights will attract the walkers." Doug said.

Rick stared at the object. The idea floated around in his head. _A freaking rocket. _Using fireworks to lure away walkers seemed such a bizarre idea, almost like child's play. _It could work though._ "Odd solution, but it might work. Good going, Doug."

Rick turned towards the residents of the living room. "Lilly, Glenn, Daryl, y'all are with me."

* * *

Rick and the crew made their exit like before – sneaking through the shed, sprinting through the hordes until they found themselves in a street that was devoid of walkers. Whilst it felt deserted, they had a constant sensation on the back of their neck, as if someone could creep up to them at any moment and slit their throats. They kept their weapons with the safety off, firm in their hands.

"So, we're going to shoot some fireworks to lure the walkers away?" Lilly asked.

"Yeah. It's weird, I know, but those things are loud." Rick said.

"From which building?"

"Maybe that one." Rick said, pointing his finger towards an apartment building, which was the tallest one visible in the skyline.

"Playing with fireworks…reminds me of when I was a kid." Glenn said.

"Me too." Rick said. "Hey, thanks for coming."

"Well, you kind of picked me." Glenn said.

"True, but you could've said no. You scared?"

"Terrified. Sorry, I know you're expecting me to stay strong."

"It's okay. Don't worry, this is gonna go just fine. You can do this, I know it. Back at the bar, during the firefight, you were the one who pretty much saved us."

"I—I don't think so."

"It's true. When we were inside the bar, and one of those guys opened the door, you were the one who slid across the floor to keep it shut."

Glenn sighed. "I'm just scared of screwing things up, or freezing when the bullets start flying. I mean, I thought we were done dealing with people. I thought our only threat now would be the walkers."

"Me too." Rick said.

Daryl looked through the corner of his eye. Lilly carried her rifle with firm hands, the stock butted against her shoulder, supporting the weight quite well. "You handle that rifle nice."

"I worked in a military air-base."

"Not so good at dealing with walkers, though."

Lilly grunted, recalling her incident at the pharmacy. "Yeah, well, I spent most of my time behind a desk, dealing with shitheads and bureaucrats."

"That shit seems boring as fuck."

"Well, then what did you do before all this?"

Daryl looked away. "Ain't none of your damned business."

Lilly snorted. "Unbelievable."

Their conversations ceased as she punctuated that sentence. Whistles echoed through the rooftops. They weren't alone.

"Get down." Rick mouthed to his friends without a sound.

They crouched down and huddled behind the street corner. Glenn wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. Rick halted his breathing that seemed loud in the silent night, to listen to any noises. Daryl darted his gaze in every direction, and Lilly scoped out the buildings with the scope of her rifle.

"Nothing." Lilly whispered.

"They're out there." Rick said. "We've got no advantage here, we oughta go back."

"We can't go back, Rick! The house ain't gonna hold much longer against the horde. Let's just-"

Lilly halted her sentence and let out a deafening scream, when an arrow drilled her leg. She fell on her back. Within a second, Rick glimpsed from behind his cover. Another arrow was fired, but it missed and whizzed past them. The attackers weren't using firearms, so he couldn't pinpoint their location since there was no gun muzzle. He fired blindly towards the rooftops. "Get back!"

Daryl dragged Lilly back, further into cover, while Glenn was breathing heavily with his back glued against the façade of a vacant butcher shop.

Rick got an eye on the bowman, standing on top of one of the buildings. He fired his two remaining rounds. A howl filled the air and the bowman toppled over the edge, falling three stories until his body spattered on the ground. He backed into cover when more arrows rained close to him, bouncing off the asphalt roads, but he guessed due to the firing bursts that there were three of them, maybe four. He reloaded his revolver and fired again. When he halted the fire, there were more whistles, an echoing of footsteps and just silence.

"They're gone." Rick said.

"We still got a problem here." Daryl said.

His fingers were pressed against Lilly's leg, around the arrow. Lilly moaned, grinding her teeth to avoid making too much noise. Rick rubbed his chin, inspecting the wound. "The arrow didn't pierce all the way through, it's just sticking out."

Rick yanked out the arrow, making Lilly wince and intensifying her grunts. Daryl fished a scrap of cloth from his pocket and bandaged her wound, finishing with a tight knot. Her trousers quickly soaked with blood. Glenn was still idle, watching the scene with an expression of horror stamped on his face.

"Shit. We can't take her like this." Rick said. "Daryl, take her back to the mansion. Glenn and I will finish the job."

"Okay." Daryl said.

Lilly grasped Daryl's arm. He jerked her onto her feet. She slid her arm around his shoulder and limped away, with him serving as a crutch. Rick walked over to the corpse of the bowman he shot down. Rick squatted and inspected his corpse. He had a primitive bow lying next to him, made of branches and fishing line, and arrows made of sharpened sticks. Rick rummaged his pockets and took out a pair of dog tags. 'Ramiro Hunt'.

"Uh, Rick, look!" Glenn said.

Rick got up, tossing the dog tags into his pocket. The gunfire was brought some unwanted attention. At the end of the avenues, there were packs of walkers shambling in their direction, some of them popping out from underneath dumpsters or wrecked cars.

"Shit! Alleyway!" Rick said.

Rick and Glenn ducked into the nearest alleyway, without looking back.

* * *

Lee and Carley turned around the corner, but they halted abruptly. There was a crowd of walkers in front of the door, throwing their fists at it, but Vernon was nowhere to be seen. The duo whipped out their pistols and took aim. Carley took the first shot, which finished off the first zombie. The lurkers now turned their heads towards them, and lurched in their direction. They aligned the shot, pressed the trigger, rinse and repeat, until they were all dead.

The biters were now just a pile of decaying flesh laying on the ground, with shrapnel embedded in their skulls. The couple holstered their guns.

"Huh, looks like I took out more than you did." Carley said.

"Didn't know we were in a competition."

Lee opened the door. The nursery had a row of beds on one side, all of them separated by curtains. The room was like a crime scene, there was a trail of blood spread through the tile floor, and the desk was full of sheets of paper and patient folders that promised to contain useful clues.

Vernon stepped out from behind one of the curtains.

"What happened?" Lee asked.

"They wandered into the hallway after I got inside." Vernon said. "I think they must've heard be rooting around in here. The whole place is infested, they're everywhere!"

"Calm down, we took care of them." Carley said. "Molly said that the medicine is locked in a cabinet here, right?"

"Yeah, the thing has a keypad on it." Vernon said, showing them. "I've looked everywhere, thinking maybe the doctor who ran this place wrote the combination down somewhere, but no such luck."

"Here, I found this paper in a doctor's corpse outside." Carley said, showing it to them.

Vernon scrutinized the paper. "I think the keypad only requires four digits, that one has five of them."

"Then what do you think it unlocks?"

"Maybe one of the lockers?" Lee said.

Lee inspected the desk. He saw some medical folders of various patients. He looked inside them and found a tape, inside the files of a woman named Anna Correa. He looked back and saw the camcorder.

"Maybe this'll help." Lee said, inserting the tape. They huddled behind the camera to watch.

_The nursery was visible in its former glory, with a woman sitting on one of the beds. Anna Correa. The doctor spoke. "This is day eighty-two since the outbreak…fifteen forty-seven. Doctor Logan in consultation with patient Anna Correa."_

_Logan walked in front of the camera, showing himself for the first time. Anna turned to him. "Why are you recording this?"_

_ "__Regulations." Logan said. "Oberson has ordered me to keep records of all medical examination and consultations. I need you to brace yourself, Anna. The sonogram confirms that you're pregnant."_

_Anna covered her face with her hands in a cusp. "Oh God, oh God, oh God…"_

_ "__As you know, the rules are very clear. The termination is mandatory."_

_ "__You don't have to tell them! Tell them it was nausea, that you gave me something for it and it went away. This is my problem, not yours."_

_ "__If Oberson finds out I concealed evidence of a pregnancy…I'm sorry, but these are the rules. I'm going to give you a sedative, it'll make the procedure easier on you."_

_ "__I don't want the procedure!" She shouted as she broke into tears. "I want my baby! I can't do this!"_

_ "__Anna, you don't have a choice. Now if you like, you can take some time with this, but I need you to come back no later than tomorrow. Or I'll have no choice but to inform Oberson myself."_

_Anna Correa got up and bolted out the door, slamming it on her way out._

_ "__I'm sorry."_

Lee removed the tape. Carley sighed - they didn't see the code. "Dammit, we didn't get a glimpse at the code."

"Lee, maybe there's another tape. We've got to keep looking." Vernon said.

"Actually, I found another tape in a doctor's corpse outside." Carley said, pulling the tape out of her pocket.

"Good job." Lee said, inserting the cassette.

_The scene started out the same way it did in the first tape. The doctor spoke. "Have you made a decision?"_

_ "__I thought you said I didn't have a choice." Anna Correa said._

_ "__Well, technically you do. You can terminate the pregnancy, or leave Crawford. Of course that would be a death sentence, for both you and your unborn child."_

_ "__Maybe that's best. I stayed up all last night thinking about this. Why are we even trying to survive, to keep on living, if this is what it takes? If this is what it's turned us into?"_

_ "__Anna, I don't make the rules."_

_ "__Doctor, I'm begging you…" Anna said in a throbbing voice. "Please help me."_

_ "__Maybe one day, when things are different, you can try again. But for now, today, we have to do this."_

_Logan walked up to the cabinet and inserted the four digits into the keypad. Behind him, Anna Correa jumped to her feet and dashed towards the table, grabbing a scalpel and jabbing it into Logan's stomach. Logan howled and breathed heavily, bending over, while Anna Correa snatched his gun and ran out the door, gunshots echoing off-screen. _

_ "__No…no…." Logan mumbled, falling on the ground._

"Looks like we know what happened to Crawford." Lee said, his lips twisted.

"More importantly, we got the combination." Vernon said.

Vernon repeated the code on the keypad and smiled as the door buzzed and slung open. "We're in business. Antibiotics, morphine, we'll take as much of this as we can carry."

The three of them filled their pockets with every pillbox they saw, until they were encumbered. "Okay, I think we're good. This is more than enough for your people and mine."

"We even got some extra nitroglycerin for Larry." Carley said.

"Let's go then." Lee said.

* * *

Lilly groaned as the pain seeped more intensely into her leg, which no longer held her weight. She slipped from Daryl's grasp and collapsed on the bitumen. She growled, punching the ground. "Dammit!"

Daryl aided her getting up with speed, with little care about being too brusque or not. The moaning of the herds were everywhere, he just didn't know where they came from. "Get up, we can't stop!"

Lilly pushed herself up, with her hands fixated on the ground. She detested being a burden and hated being weak. But daggers of pain ran through her as she tried again. She slumped on the ground. "I really can't."

"For Christ's sake…"

Daryl used both his arms to grab her and haul her. He jogged around the corner, but quickly came to a stop. It was flooded with myriads of zombies, that in the night, were nothing but grey silhouettes.

"Shit. What do we do?" Lilly said.

Daryl tapped his fingers against Lilly's leg. He couldn't haul her and shoot at the walkers the same time, that was sure. Maybe they could make a detour? No, he barely knew the layout of these roads and he was sure he would just stumble upon more walkers. "Looks like we're gonna crash for the night somewhere else."

Daryl darted towards the nearest house, similar to the majority of the other ones surrounding him. He balanced himself and kicked the door in, then entered.

* * *

Lee, Vernon and Carley strolled back to the classroom. The lockers stretched out through each wall. Lee studied them with his lips curved and his eyebrows bent high, memories of when he used to teach sailing through his mind. A place of knowledge and culture, demolished to nothing by the dead. He read the names on the lockers. _Ethan, Pete, Royce, Logan?! _His train of thought was cutoff. He approached the locker.

"What's wrong?" Carley asked.

"That paper you had…maybe it's the combination to this locker."

"We've got the meds, Lee. We oughta go back." Vernon said.

"Still…Carley, let me see that paper."

Carley gave him the paper. Lee spun the padlock accordingly to the written code. Vernon walked away. "I'll be heading back to the classroom. Don't take too long."

There was a click. Lee threw aside the padlock and looked inside. He grabbed the sole object that was in there. "Look, another tape. It predates the other two, I think."

"Lee, where are you going with this? It will not help us any way."

"I'm just curious. You coming or not?"

Carley rolled her eyes. "Someone's gotta babysit you."

They returned into the nursery and switched on the camcorder, then inserted the third tape.

_The image started with Logan zipping up his flier. _

"God, don't tell me this is a amateur por-" Carley said.

_Logan backed away from the camera, revealing Molly standing behind him, zipping up her leather jacket. _

"What the hell…?!" Carley whispered.

_Logan headed towards the medicine cabinet and unlocked it. "Listen. As fun as this was, I have to put a stop to this little arrangement. This is the last I can give you."_

_ "__Why?" Molly asked._

_ "__Oberson had someone down here yesterday taking inventory. He's really cracking down. I just can't risk it."_

_ "__We had a deal!"_

_Logan gave her a package of meds. "Yes. We had a deal. We don't anymore."_

_ "__My sister needs this medicine! Without it she'll die. Or she'll start showing symptoms and they'll take her away. I can't let that happen."_

_ "__I'm sorry, Molly, but I've done all I can. I have to look after myself here."_

_ "__Yeah, that's the Crawford way, isn't it?" Molly said, storming out the room and bumping into Logan._

Lee removed the tape. "Well, shit."

"I knew we couldn't trust her." Carley muttered.

"Carley, she did it to save her sister."

"But it would've been useful if she had told us she had been in Crawford before!"

"It's not like she had to tell us. And I understand why she didn't." Lee said.

"Whatever, you keep defending her like you always do."

Lee sighed. "We have to go back to the classroom."

* * *

Rick and Glenn felt a cold sweat flowing through their bodies as the sight before them unraveled. It was a dead-end. They kept going anyway. A glance past their shoulder towards the horde invading the alley was all it took to make them hurry their step.

"No!" Glenn shouted when they reached the end, rubbing his head until he created an odd hairstyle.

"There!"

Rick pointed towards the emergency ladder on the side of the building, but it was out of their reach. Rick dragged a dumpster near the ladder. Glenn fired his shotgun at the horde. The pellets hit their torsos, arms and legs but he couldn't aim. He was a nervous wreck and couldn't steady himself.

Rick climbed on the dumpster and jumped into the air. He managed to grasp the balcony with the tip of his fingers and he hoisted himself up. "C'mon, Glenn!"

The walkers were just a few feet away from Glenn. Glenn scurried onto the dumpster and leapt into the air. But the moment Rick grabbed his hand, so did a walker wrap its skeletal fingers around his ankle. Glenn screamed, being yanked around by two opposite sides, like two siblings disputing over the possession of a toy.

"Glenn!"

Rick used his second hand to apply more strength, but it was useless as more fingers clawed at Glenn's feet. Glenn shouted nonstop, his awkward screams oscillating between high and low pitches. Rick took out his pistol and fired a round into the skull of the walker grabbing him. The sudden release of his foot made Glenn dangle in Rick's hand, before he pulled him up.

Glenn laid on the ground, panting, unable to breathe. He couldn't help but smile for a short while.

"C'mon, we got to finish this." Rick said, lending his hand to him.

Rick lent him a hand in getting up, then they hurtled to the rooftop. Once they were there, Rick took the rocket from his pouch and set in on the roof. He sparkled the lighter he'd brought with him and lit the fuse. The two of them backed up until they were in the corner of the rooftop.

There was a flareup underneath the rocket before it shot towards the sky. The fireworks exploded in midair, erupting with rays of different colors – red, blue, white, accompanied by a blast that rang throughout the whole city. Rick and Glenn stared up, smiling in awe.

Lori glimpsed through the curtains of the house. The walkers, one after the other, circled around, looking up at the loud spectacle drawing in the sky, in the distance. They shambled away, following the source of the sound.

Lee lifted his head. Somewhere distant, he heard muffled tooting. He moved towards the window of the nursery, Carley right next to him. The two admired the show, unsure on what to say. Lee simpered. "Damn, that's the last thing I was waiting to see today."

Glenn grinned, looking at the sky. "Nice."

"You said it." Rick said, spotting a door that supposedly led to the interior of the building. "C'mon, let's go back. I'm guessing Lee and the guys must be arriving soon. And, Glenn?"

"Yeah?"

"It could've gone worse today." Rick said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

Glenn lowered his head. "I froze. Again."

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: A little side note, the reason Chuck knew how to play that song, The Parting Glass, was because it's a folklore song so it's normal that it's a known song amongst the general populace. **


	49. The Suicide King, I

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 49 – THE SUICIDE KING PART 1**

After their return, Rick tightly hugged his wife and son, while Glenn clutched Maggie like there was no tomorrow. As he raised his head, he locked his gaze on Hershel. The old man nodded, with a glow of pride. Glenn smiled at him. Rick detached from his wife and turned to the group. "Well, the walkers are gone for now at least."

"Wait, where are Lilly and Daryl?" Andrea asked.

"What the hell happened to her?!" Larry barked.

"Lilly got injured." Rick said. "I told Daryl to bring her back, but seeing the streets were so dense with walkers, they must've holed up somewhere."

"You just left her?!"

"She's in good hands, Larry."

"Un-fucking-believable. Andrea, give me your rifle, I'm going out there!"

Andrea took a step back. "No way. It's too dangerous out there! You'll never make it past the walkers."

"She's right." Rick said. "Larry, we already got enough issues, just lay off. I'm sure they'll be back by dawn."

Larry shot sharp glanced to the two people standing against him, and stormed off into another room. Rick sighed. _That could've gone worse. _He put his hand in his pocket and felt the dog tags from the guy he'd shot earlier. Wrapping his fingers around it, he went upstairs and entered the dark room, with a deadpanned expression on his face, devoid of any sign of glee. But as always, Harlan had his mocking snicker stamped on his smug face.

"Found my fireworks?" Harlan said.

"Yeah, curious thing to carry around in the midst of the damned apocalypse." Rick said.

"Found a whole box of them in a store. Thought I'd take it back to camp, do a little fireworks show to boost the morale."

Rick threw the blood-sprinkled dog tags onto Harlan's lap. Like they were in a theater scene, they swapped roles. Rick now was smirking, and his stomach tingled with pleasure when those simple bloodied tags ripped the smile from him.

"I told you what would happen." Rick said.

"It's okay." Harlan said. "It'll be one more I'll allow myself to kill of your group."

Rick walked out of the room, and put his hand around the handle. "Sleep tight."

* * *

Travis slumped on the mattress of the bedroom, with Ben sat by his side. His whole body was sore, the blood in his trousers made him uncomfortable, and the arrows of fire that ran up to his midsection were now constant. _God, I hope I won't be like this for too long._

"You shouldn't have done that down there." Ben said, his face concealed by his hands. "I mean, you lost blood! What if…?!"

"Ben, calm down." Travis said in a hoarse voice, though it was enough to silence his friend. "All that's important right now is that bastard…Harlan…!"

"I can't believe…that monster, just sitting in the other room."

"No, Ben. This is opportunity."

Ben showed his face, his eyes glinting. "What do you mean?"

Travis made an effort to sit up, leaning on the back of the bedframe. "I never thought I'd see that bastard again. Guys like him, they don't get to live. It was our fault, Ben, my fault. Our fault we didn't do anything to stop what he did with his goons on the camp, on those people. But now we get the chance to make him pay."

"What are you saying, Travis?"

"I tried to get him, but I hurt myself. I can't stand. You're gonna have to do it, Ben."

"Do what?!"

"Kill him."

The silence crumbled on the room.

"But—but...Rick wants him alive, and more importantly, it's madness!" Ben exclaimed.

"Keep your tone down, Ben." Travis said with calm. "Ben, you saw the things they did back on camp! What's madness is when we let him just go back to the camp and keep on making all those people suffer."

"But I can't do it, Trav. I'm not…I'm not a murderer."

"Neither am I, Ben. I'll be honest…I don't want you to carry this burden. I would've done it if I didn't…if I didn't have this fucking hole in my leg! But you have to."

"I'm afraid, Travis. I won't be able to do it."

"I'm afraid too." Travis said, lowering his head, wanting to just burst into tears and relieve the woe within him. "I'm afraid of our safety. I'm afraid of him getting back to the camp, so he can take over Dave's throne and commandeer everyone."

Ben's brain was desperately searching for an alternative. "But Rick, he…probably knows what to do. Why not just wait for Lee to come back and let them sort it out?"

"Because every second Harlan's still breathing, the higher the risk is that his lackeys will come back for us, and for him."

"How does killing him stop them from coming?"

Travis sighed, rolling his eyes. "Dammit, Ben, listen to me! You can't chicken out! Find a gun. Then you march into that cell and put a bullet in that guy's head. The universe will thank you."

Ben got up, not sure if his knees would carry his weight. "I'm…I'm…I'm sorry, I won't do it."

"Dammit, Ben, Ben!" Travis shouted as Ben walked out the door. "Ben!"

Travis went silent after he shut the door. He clenched his fists until his nails delved into his palms. His emotions were in a turmoil within him, the pain just adding up to the rage. He curled into a ball and tucked his head into his legs, and let out the tears welling up in his eyes.

* * *

Daryl scanned his surroundings for a second, before proceeding to the salon – alike to the one from the mansion. He lowered Lilly onto the sofa with care, sliding his arms from underneath her. Lilly breathed. "Thanks."

Daryl barely heard her as he flicked his eyes through the murky house. In an instinct, a phrase came to mind. _Check for walkers. _He approached the wall and knocked on it, the taps echoing throughout the house. Daryl held his breath, his hearing sharpening until he could listen to his heart beating. A creaking floorboard, a breeze outside, but nothing else. "We're in the clear."

"How are they outside?"

Daryl walked up to the window and pulled the curtains closed, then peeked between them. "They're still outside, walking toward the fireworks."

Daryl marched towards an armchair and sank on it. He removed his crossbow from his back and set it next to the seat.

"Shouldn't you check around the house for supplies?" Lilly asked.

"Molly said she's been through every inch of this town, doubt I'll find anything useful." Daryl said.

Lilly shrugged. "Hey, Daryl?"

"What?"

"Thanks for the help back there."

"Be smarter next time. You were too out in the open. Second time I save you, psycho bitch."

Lilly snorted at his insult. "Whatever, filthy redneck."

* * *

Billy Greene glanced past his shoulder as he snuck into the backyard. He crouched down. Beyond the fence, the walkers were distancing themselves, voyaging away to somewhere else. He entered the shed and lit the room with a lighter. He cast the light upon the boat. He circled around the entirety of the boat, inspecting each nook and cranny with a smile.

Place for about five people. There was himself, Hershel, Maggie, Beth and Jimmy. Glenn had to stay behind. Well, it was a pity but he had to get his family out of there. He thought for a while about how he could convince his family. Anyway, he wasn't being selfish, if Rick didn't want the boat, why couldn't they have it?

He would figure it out when the moment came. He had to come back in the morning.

* * *

Lee and Carley strolled back to the classroom, keeping a distance between them and without saying a word. He knew it was easy to push her buttons, and a couple can't survive without a few argues, right? But he still felt his heart squeezed to sense this tension between them. Lee looked up at the hole in the ceiling, the same one they'd jump through earlier. Knowing that Molly carried the battery with her, plus not knowing where she was, put him on edge. As if his mind had been read, Molly popped out, leaping into the hallway.

"Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me." Lee said. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"Sightseeing." Molly said.

"I'll take that battery now."

"Oh, yeah, about that…just kidding. Here ya go."

Lee took it and put the battery in his…uh…wait, where did he put it? Oh, right, in his unrealistically spacious trousers. Whatever. Molly had a photograph between her fingers. Lee glanced at it, but Molly then hit it behind her leg. "What's that?"

"Nothing." Molly said.

"So, you find your way around easy?" Carley asked.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, you should because this isn't the first time you've been here, has it?"

Molly stretched her eyelids, but quickly narrowed her brows. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ugh, just quit the act. Don't you think it would have been useful to tell us instead of lying?"

"Carley. I'll handle this." Lee said.

Carley opened her mouth, but Lee shot her an austere frown. Carley exhaled and backed away from their earshot, with her arms folded and staring at them from the corner of her eye. Lee turned back to Molly. "Listen, we know you're from Crawford. I'm sorry about her."

"Who told you that?!" Molly asked.

"I saw you on a security tape. Why'd you lie to us?"

"I said there were stories about Crawford, I never said that's how I knew about it. I never lied to you. And even if I did, so what? I don't owe you anything."

"You saved my life twice, but you can't tell me the truth?"

"Are we really gonna do this now?"

"I guess that's up to you."

Molly sighed, her expression softening as well as her voice. "I used to live here with my sister. She was fourteen years old. When the dead started walking and Crawford shut itself in, it seemed like a pretty good deal at first. We were safe, we had everything we needed to survive. Then the rules started coming down. No-one who couldn't justify their place, earn their keep. No-one who required special care. My sister was a diabetic, and by Crawford's rules that made her a liability. I kept it a secret, kept her safe for as long as I could. But in the end, I couldn't protect her. That's when I got out. Crawford, they always talked about how their system worked. How anything was better than becoming "one of them." But I saw what they'd already become. I just wish I could have seen it before it was late. Before they came and took my sister away."

Molly stopped and wiped a tear from her eye. Lee lowered his head, his face contorted and a lump in his throat. Molly showed him the photo she held, one of a young girl. "This is all I have left of her."

"It's okay, Molly. I understand. She's pretty." Lee said. "Also, I have another question for you. Kenny and Brie said they saw someone running whilst on their fuel run. It wouldn't happen to be you?"

"Uh, no. I didn't go anywhere near the maintenance shed. I was on the opposite side actually."

Lee let out a grunt. "Weird…"

"If one of those Crawford bastards survived all of this…"

"Just forget about it. We've got to get going anyway."

A bell began ringing, illustrating his sentence.

"What the hell…?!" Molly mumbled.

"I think that's our cue to get the hell out of here."

Molly and Lee sauntered back to the classroom, Carley accompanying them thought it seemed more like she was surveilling them. Lee looked at the front dual doors. They were smeared all over with blood, marked with handprints. But Lee caught something with his peripheral vision, making him halt.

Something was missing, between the door handles.

The hatchet with the blue handgrip.

He opened his mouth, but was interrupted when the doors flew open. The dead intruded the highschool, amassed in an astonishing horde.

"Shit!"

Lee whipped out his gun while Molly took her pickaxe and rushed to the battlefront. Carley started taking down walkers, each and every bullet always piercing the brain. Molly spiked a walker in the head, kicked another and drilled the head of a final one. But the one she kicked lunged at her once again, getting a grip of her. "Agh! Lee, shoot this fucker!"

Molly almost fell backwards when the walker was struck by a bullet and let go of her. She ran back to safety, glancing with a smile towards Lee. "Thanks."

Lee looked at his gun, perplexed. "It wasn't me."

Clementine was standing by his side, a pistol in her hands with the barrel smoking. "Good going, kid. Nice shot."

"Thanks." Clementine said.

Lee smiled at her, before they all scurried into the classroom.

* * *

Lee slammed the door behind him, breathing heavily. Kenny spun around, his eyelids spanned open. "What the hell is going on?!"

"They're coming." Lee said.

"Aw, shit."

Kenny thought up of a solution while Brie wrapped her hands around the handle to make sure it remained shut. Vernon said, "That oughta hold 'em."

"Sure, but now how do we get out?!" Brie asked.

"Through the armory, we gotta bust it open!" Kenny said, tackling the door repeatedly.

"How the hell they get inside?" T-Dog asked.

"We barred the doors with a hatchet to keep them shut, but someone took it off!" Lee said.

"Tell us right now, who the hell took the hatchet from the door handles?!" Carley said with fervor.

"Nobody did." T-Dog said. "Ain't no one who left this room ever since I was here."

The group exchanged puzzled glances back and forth, not knowing what to say. Kenny didn't stop for one second and kept applying his force on the door. "It don't matter! We just need to open this door!"

The walkers' arms erupted through the glass window of the classroom door. Their fingers grasped Brie's face, scratching her face. The woman lost her strength and let go of the door, allowing it to swing free. She fell on the ground, the walkers dominating her and taking vicious chews out of her, their hands pulling her everywhere as if she was a ragdoll.

"Brie!" Vernon shouted.

Kenny ceased his current approach and kicked the door open with all of his powers. The lock broke and the door flew open, leading to a bell tower constructed entirely in wood, with a gun cabinet in the corner.

"Now can we go?!" Molly said as she backed away from the walkers, no emotion in her voice.

"Damn right. Vernon, c'mon!" Lee said.

Lee tugged Vernon out of the room, shellshocked and with his gaze locked on the gory scene. Carley aimed her gun at the walkers. _Should I put her down? _She shook her head and holstered her gun once again, running into the armory with the others. _Can't waste the bullets. _Kenny and T-Dog grabbed the jerricans and hauled them out of the room.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: I kinda regret not bringing Ben along on the trip to Crawford, since it really heightened the tension when Ben came clean with Kenny, but unfortunately in this context it wouldn't make sense for him to go with Lee, because in this story, the group is vast so Lee picked the best fighters and useful people he had, however in the original game, Ben went to Crawford out of necessity, due to the group's shrunk numbers.**

**I already got the next chapter written down, just needs a strong edit. Fiftieth chapter will wrap up this arc, all while setting up the plot for the next one. See ya next time!**


	50. EPISODE 3 FINALE - The Suicide King, II

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**EPISODE 3 FINALE – THE SUICIDE KING PART 2**

Lee leaned his weight against the door to keep it shut. The herd's growls escalated outside, however they weren't headed to the armory just yet. Lee conjectured that the dead woman provided a head-start start for them, but not a long one.

The bell tower had spiraling and squared stairwells, peaking at four-stories, where at the top, laid the enormous church bell. Carley jogged towards the gun cabinet. She cursed under her breath. It was empty, except for a few handgun magazines.

"So much for the armory." Lee said.

"What's left of it." Kenny said.

"A few rounds, that's it." Carley said.

Carley slid the clips into her pocket. Kenny turned to Lee. "You didn't close that door behind us?"

"I couldn't, the lock was busted." Lee said.

"Great, just fucking great. C'mon, there's gotta be a way out down here!"

The group thundered down the stairs, all of them in a line, until they reached the bottom of the bell tower. There was a door leading back into the hallway. Lee opened it but was greeted by a massive crowd of walkers. Their heads gyred towards him while the group remained petrified for a second.

"Fuck!" Kenny shouted.

Lee shut the door with an aggressive wham. "That's not gonna hold. Back upstairs!"

The others rushed back up the stairs, except for Kenny. There was a dead man beside the staircase, just laying on the ground with a shotgun in his hands. He pried it from his dead fingers and tossed it at Lee. "Lee, look!"

Lee grabbed the shotgun, and then Kenny chased after the group. The walkers burst through the door, barely giving Lee the time to react. He cocked the shotgun, and backed away, up the stairs while firing at the horde at the same time. His targets crumpled on the floor, heavy as sand bags, and while the remaining ones tripped over them, they kept going, driven by a sole primitive and insatiable desire.

Lee's heart came to his mouth when one of the steps caved in, his right leg sinking into the hole. He jerked his leg but it remained stuck. He quickly saw that the zombies where gaining on him. He fired, alternating between shooting and prying his leg. He finally freed himself and continued up the stairs, onto the first floor where they'd enter through, but was halted when the horde barged through the broken armory door.

Bullets rained down on the walkers, whom fell to the sides and went flying over the railings. He looked up and saw Carley, with her gun brandished. Lee nodded at her, before pulling out his wooden hatchet. He smiled, remembering how he had found that weapon so long ago – in that barn in Atlanta, with Rick.

He marched up the stairs, determined not to stop. There were still walkers in the remainingg two floors. He swooped the hatchet, sending the first zombie into the void, and throwing him over the rail onto a several meter drop. He made a slow advance up the stairs, drawing arcs in the air each time a walker crossed his path, then pushing them out of the way.

The last walker was the real problem. He planted the hatchet in its skull, but the blade didn't dig deep enough to destroy the brain. The walker spun around, the hatchet slipping from his hand. The rotter gripped him, but in an instinct he shoved it over the railing. The undead bastard didn't give up so easy, it kept its grip tight around his shotgun barrel. Lee pulled the trigger. The gun barked, and the biter's torso jetted with blood gushes after the pellets pierced its flesh. The zombie released the shotgun, and Lee watched as it splattered its guts on the ground, with the hatchet still sticking out of his brain.

Lee panted as he finally reached the final floor, meeting his friends again. Carley and Clementine ran to hug him. "It's alright, girls. I'm fine."

Vernon was bent over a window, which had a ladder leading onto a rooftop. T-Dog took a look. "This leads to the rooftop, we might be able to find a way down from there."

"You didn't come into town from the railroad, did you?" Vernon asked.

"Yeah, why?" Kenny said.

"Never mind. I can see the sewer where we came in from here. I think we can do this."

"Well, then what are we waiting for?! Go! Go!"

Vernon and Kenny climbed down first. But when only Lee, Carley and T-Dog were behind, Lee saw it. The man known as Crawford Oberson was reanimated, hung by a rope to the bell. The bell swayed back and forth, and when it reached enough momentum, the walker grasped T-Dog. He let out a scream and was towed backwards. There was a railing that stopped him from falling below, but with the inertia of the bell, he would soon be heaved away. Lee raised his gun, but Carley was faster to shoot the zombie dead in the forehead. Oberson disentangled his fingers from T-Dog and went limp, still hanging by the rope. T-Dog rubbed his shoulders as he nodded at Carley.

"Go, go!" Lee shouted, as the walkers where just a few feet away from them.

* * *

There was a knock on the door. Travis sniffled and scrubbed his reddened eyes. He looked up and steadied his voice, so it wouldn't throb. "Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

Travis recognized Hershel's deep, elder voice. "Sure."

Hershel stepped inside. "I just wanted to see if you're holding up okay."

Travis was about to say no, but then his eyes rolled through the man's belt. A knife was tucked in it. "Actually, I really need to go the toilet. Mind giving me a hand to stand up?"

"Are you sure you'll make it there? It's downstairs."

"Yeah, I just need a hand to get up."

Hershel stretched out his hand. Travis gripped it with a tight clench. With a writhed expression, he heaved himself up. He set foot on the ground, and faked an acute whimper. He fell on Hershel, running his hand down and snatching the knife. With a swift motion, he hid it behind his leg.

"Woah, are you okay?" Hershel said.

Travis dropped back on the bed. "Yeah. Think I'll hold it in for a while longer. Thanks anyway."

Hershel nodded before he left the room. Travis looked towards the door twice, to check it was closed. He put the knife in his hand and slid his finger through the blade. Sharp. He preferred firearms, but that weapon would have to do. He took a few deep breaths to relieve the adrenaline, that was high as an overdose pumping in his veins.

He was doing it. He was going to finish it. It almost felt unreal.

He got up, this time so quick that it was almost like he didn't have a leg injury. He marched towards the exit, the adrenaline anesthetizing the pain. If it were another man he was about to kill, he would've been scared. But the hate was so big that it numbed all of the other emotions. Travis opened the door. He was just in the room across the hallway.

He swiveled the handle and swung it open. He penetrated the room. His heart was beating so fast that it almost felt too big to fit in his chest. The man's contours were drawn in the darkness as his pupils grew larger. Harlan was sitting in the chair. The rope restraining him left him defenseless and delivered to his soon-to-be killer. He raised his head, looking into Travis' eyes, before flicking his eyes over the blade.

Travis was already hyping everything in his mind. He was going to beg for mercy, sweat like a pig every time he caressed his skin with the tip of his blade. He was going to pay. He was going to suffer. But the denouement was much more disappointing than he predicted.

"Do it." Harlan said.

Travis gulped down his saliva. "That's all you're going to say?!"

"What else do you want me to say? You hate me, you came here with a knife in your hand, I can't fight you. It's pretty clear-cut. So, do it."

Travis' lip twitched. No, it couldn't just go like that. It couldn't be so simple. He wanted to make the moment last. But he couldn't torture him, even if he wanted to. However the desire of him begging for his life was eating him up, and the thought of not being able to satisfy his wish was devastating. He touched the man's cheek with his knife. "No. You're gonna say you're sorry. For everything you've done."

"I'm not."

"You fucker…!"

He tightened the knife until his fingers were white and carved his cheek with the blade. The blood streamed down his cheek and marked the blade, while Harlan's lip quivered but he made his best not to moan, to not show his pain.

"Travis, what the fuck is this?!"

Travis clenched his fists. Rick. "Rick, this is none of your business."

Rick examined the situation in a few seconds – he had a knife in his hand. "It is. Travis, just trust me, you don't want to do this."

Travis started shaking, a tear falling down his visage. "What do you know?! You don't…you don't get to say that! You don't know the things he's done! The suffering he's brought to everyone!"

"Travis, listen to me. I know you're angry. I know it feels like this is something you have to do this instant. But killing him won't make things better. Not now at least."

Travis didn't budge. Rick could see he was determined, but maybe at a subconscious level, he didn't want to do it. However at a conscious level, it was obvious he wanted Harlan to die.

"Give me the knife."

"I can't."

"Travis, I promise you, I don't want to set this fucker free any more than you do. But we have to be smart about this. Once you've taken a life…you can't give it back."

Travis looked at Rick. It wasn't his choice of words that made him considered to back off. It was how he said. Rick didn't even seem set on taking the knife away from him. They were just two guys talking. He had his head hunkered low, a feeling of wisdom, that he knew what was talking about, emanating from him.

"Drop the knife, please."

Travis let the knife slip from his fingers, dropping on the ground with a thump. Rick picked it up and rubbed the teenager's back, leading him away towards the door.

"Chicken-shit." Harlan said.

"Promise me you'll kill him, Rick. After this is done."

"Once I know the situation we're in, I will. I'm being one-hundred percent honest, Travis, I won't let him live." Rick said. "But I need to know…what kind of things has he done?"

Travis gave him a hollowed glare. "The worst kind of things. Not to me or Ben though. He just…watched."

Those words solidified him to stone as he saw Travis limp away, to the bedroom. Rick came back to his senses, rage filling him up like a disease. The cure? To let it out. He stormed back into the cell room, taking the care to close the door behind him. It was only the two of them.

Harlan snickered. "That kid, he…"

Rick applied all of his inertia on his leg, stamping his bootprint on Harlan's wrinkled shirt. The kick sucked the air out of his lungs and sent him to the ground, the back of the chair colliding with his spine and crushing his fingers. The man groaned and breathed heavily. Rick towered above the man and elbowed him several times in the face, his hits fueled by his rage. When the man's face was speckled with hematomas and blood, Rick seized his neck with a tight grip.

"Now, you listen to me, motherfucker. I don't know what kind of sick, twisted shit you've done to those kids, but I can only guess since one of them nearly became a killer today. You're always acting like it's cool, and shit, to make others think that you're the one in control. That might've worked with others, but not me. Not fucking me! Let me put it in a philosophical way you'll understand - you're the fucking prey here, we're the hunters!"

Rick got up and observed the pitiful figure of the man. He croaked like a frog and didn't move. Rick smiled. This time, he wasn't talking back. But after the fight, which he somewhat enjoyed, came the fallout when the adrenaline rush dissolved. He became sober and felt the soreness on his arms. He dragged his feet towards the window and stared into the horizon.

Maybe he went a bit too far. For a second, he was taken back to his sheriff days, long before the dead. Violence was always a last resort, and he rarely had to whip out his gun. Cops who abused their privilege to commit crime and use police brutality just made him sick. But now? Violence was normal, a part of their routine. In such a shitty world, he couldn't blame himself. _Brenda, Dave, Tony, Ramiro Hunt...they were all justified._

His train of thought stopped. He was hearing something. Muffled hostile voices, like some kind of bickering. Coming from outside. He looked through the window. The Greene family were having some kind of heated dispute in the backyard.

_Maybe I should see what all that's about._

* * *

"We are not betraying the group like that!" Maggie said.

"It's not betrayal!" Billy said. "They don't even want the boat, why not take it?!"

"Because I can't leave Glenn behind."

"Oh for…what do you even see in him?!"

"Hey, don't say that to Maggie!" Beth said.

Rick entered the backyard with loud footfalls to mark his presence, with a straight posture. "What, uh, what is going on here?"

Their heads turned to him while Billy released a heavy breath. "Aw, great. Now we sure as hell ain't getting out of here."

Hershel glared at him. "Blasphemy."

"Billy wants to take the boat all for himself." Maggie said.

Rick scratched his chin, considering. On one hand, he didn't want to split the group, but if the family wanted to take the boat, why not let them? He didn't need it and no-one else wanted it either. "You know what? Billy's right. If you want, you can take the boat."

"No, he's not right." Hershel said. "We're not stupid. We're not splitting up."

"Dad, you can't even make the best decisions for us!" Billy said. "While we were tending to the farm, you were out in some bar, getting drunk!"

Rick opened his mouth, but then something surprising happened. Hershel's arm swung in the air, hitting Billy's check. The slap resounded through the air.. Billy fell to the ground, clutching his cheek, panting with anger, getting up and not daring to say anything else. Rick had his jaw suspended, he never expected Hershel to be so drastic.

"The bible says, honor your father and mother!" Hershel vociferated. "And that's what you will do for as long as I live!"

Hershel recomposed himself and cleared his throat, feeling the ensembles of eyes surrounding him, staring at him, but then they all just lowered their gaze. "Now that that's settled, let's go back inside. We shouldn't be out there."

Rick nodded. But then, the remnant of their group appeared in front of their fence. Their vibe was tough to decrypt, they weren't jovial but it didn't seem like they had come back from hell either. "Looks like they're back."

Lee, Molly, Carley, Vernon, T-Dog and Kenny entered the backyard, through the shed.

"Everything go okay?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, as well as can be expected." Lee said.

"More importantly, we got the fuel and the battery." Kenny said.

Lee was waiting to see smiles and cheers, but everyone remained serious. "Something wrong?"

"We saw the boat." Rick said. "We know it won't do much good."

Lee and Kenny exchanged a look and didn't just say a word, nodding in comprehension. Christa broke the tension, running outside with urgency in her eyes. "You got the meds?"

"Yes. Let's go give them to Omid." Vernon said.

"Hurry then, he's blacked out!"

They rushed inside and up the stairs, then into the bedroom. Lee, Kenny, Vernon, Carley and Rick remained petrified in front of the king-sized bed. Omid wasn't moving and had his eyes closed, his neutral expression slightly peaceful. Christa hiccupped and covered her mouth, sitting next to the bed. Lee swallowed his saliva. _Shit, what if he turns?_

Lee put his hand on Clementine's shoulder. "Clem, stay back, don't come any closer."

"Omid…I'm so sorry…" Christa said.

"Christa, get away from him!" Vernon said.

Omid lifted his torso and head, dry coughs escaping through his lips. Christa looked at him with widened eyes. Lee grasped Christa and tugged her back, but then Omid opened his eyelids and looked at them. His eyes were normal, iris and pupil.

"Hey. Back already?" Omid asked in a casual tone.

"We got you medicine." Christa smiled.

"Good. Feel like I could use some."

Vernon popped a few pills into his hand and shoved them into Omid's mouth. Rick smiled with his arms folded. "Well, this could've gone a lot worse."

"You guys okay? You look worse than I do." Omid said.

"Someone tried to ambush us back at Crawford. We don't know who. Nearly got us killed." Carley said.

"Geez…"

"I gotta go. I've got work to do." Kenny said.

"Okay, with a little luck you should start feeling better pretty soon. I'll stay here for a few more hours to check on him." Vernon said. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, doc." Omid said.

"Yes, thank you so much!" Christa said.

The room became more vacant as the group left the room. Lee simpered towards the couple, before Vernon approached him. "Maybe now's a good time for you and me to have a little talk. In private."

Lee nodded and followed the old doctor outside, the curiosity itching at the back of his head. They closed the door after their exit. Vernon let out a sorrowful sigh. "Listen, man, about what happened to Brie…"

"Don't beat yourself up over it." Vernon said. "There was nothing you could have done. You wanna know the worst part?"

"What?"

"I don't feel much. I mean, I don't feel enough. Shouldn't I be broken over what happened to her? That's how I was when I lost my daughter. When I lost all of my friends in those first few weeks. But now, it's like I just take something like this in stride. Like this is what our world is now, and we'd better just get used to it."

Lee looked down, reflecting on his words for a while. "What did you wanna talk to me about?"

"I know you care about Clementine. Anyone can see that. And I know you want what's best for her. But this plan of yours, just keep on keeping on, with no destination…do you really think that's her best chance of finding somewhere she can be safe? Because I don't. So I wanna make you an offer."

Lee felt something twinge inside him, like two tectonic plaques of anger under friction. "What kind of an offer?"

"I'll take her off your hands, take her back with me, to my people. We're well-supplied, well hidden and a lot of us have had kids of our own. And now Crawford's fallen, we've got nothing left to fear from them. She'll be safe with us, safer than she will be if she stays with you. I promise you, that's what you want for her, isn't it? To be safe?"

Lee's blood began to boil. He narrowed his look. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say any of this and give you the chance to walk away. Which you oughta do, right now."

"I know you think you're doing what's best for her, and if you were her real father we wouldn't even be having this conversation. But you're not. And staying with you is not what's best for her. If no one else around here will tell you that, then I will."

Lee grasped Vernon by the collar and slammed him against the wall. "That little girl's in my care! We've been through more than you can imagine! Anyone who tries to get in between me and her, anyone, is gonna wind up dead! You hear me?!"

Vernon stayed silent and unyielding. "Take your hands off me."

Lee complied. Vernon marched down the stairs and Lee heard him leave through the backyard door. Lee spotted Clementine sitting on the windowsill, in the study. He went there to talk to her. But then he saw Molly.

"Hey." Lee said.

"Hey, Lee." Molly said. "Hey, listen, I wanted to thank you for everything. I'm usually more of a go-it-alone type, but you've really made me rethink that."

"Well, thanks for saving me on multiple occasions."

Molly blushed and lowered her head, scratching her hair. "Also, there was like, this, uh, question, that I, uh, wanted to ask you, uh…"

Lee guessed her question right away. "You want to stay with us?"

"Damn, you can read me like an open book." Molly said.

"It's okay, you're welcome here."

"Are you sure your friend Rick won't be pissed about it?"

"No, and if he is, I'll convince him. I'm glad you've decided to stay."

"Yeah, cool. Thanks."

There was an embarrassing silence. "I guess I'll be…going then."

Molly smiled, and proceeded down the stairs. She crossed Rick. The latter glared at her past his shoulder, before heading towards Lee. "So, she's staying after all?"

"Yeah, she is." Lee said.

"I hope you're right about her."

"I am. Trust me. Trust her."

"Whatever. Come with me."

Rick led Lee to the bedroom where they kept Harlan. Once they entered, the beaten-up man looked up at them with indifference, still curled on the ground. Rick grasped the chair and hoisted him up.

"Who the hell is he?" Lee asked.

"Remember Dave and Tony?"

Lee gasped. "Oh my God…"

"Yeah, and there was also…" Harlan said.

"For fuck's sake, I've had enough of your babbling." Rick said.

Rick took a piece of cloth from his pocket and tied it around his mouth. Harlan grunted jumbled noises before going quiet.

"He was ringing a bell and brought a bunch of herds to the mansion." Rick said. "Did you see the fireworks?"

"Yeah. One hell of a show. It was you who did it?"

"Yeah, that's how we lured them away."

"Hmm. Clever."

"Tell it to Doug. Let's go outside now."

The duo left the room, shutting the door on their way out. Lee looked at his longtime friend. It was evident something was bothering him. "Something wrong?"

"Listen, I'm getting worried about Daryl and Lilly. It's ten o'clock and they haven't been back yet."

"What happened to them?"

"We got attacked by Harlan's men and Lilly got injured. I told Daryl to backtrack with her but they ain't been back yet."

"Maybe they're holed up somewhere?"

"I thought so too, but it's been hours since the walkers dissipated from the streets."

"Fuck, we should send out some search parties for them, then."

"Yeah. Also, we're gonna have a meeting later. Decide what to do with the boat, do with ourselves, where we gonna go. Come around. These people, I'm not sure if they listen to me too much anymore. Your presence always soothes them anyway."

"What are you going to do with Harlan?"

"I don't know. I'm keeping him as a bargaining chip in the meantime. But I don't know how to deal with his group. I think maybe we should just leave, get away as much as possible. And kill him."

Rick strolled away. Lee entered the study, where Clementine was sitting by the windowsill.

"Hey, sweet pea." Lee said.

"Kenny's working on the boat." Clementine said.

"I know."

"What're we gonna do now? Where will we go?"

"Someplace else. Someplace better. Clem, honey, what's wrong?"

"Before we leave tomorrow, will we have time to look for my parents?"

"I'd like to, Clem, but I don't think we'll have time. We really shouldn't stay here any longer. It's not safe."

"But—but Rick said you'd go look for Daryl and Lilly…why not my parents too?"

"Honey, it's…" Lee stopped his sentence. She was right. He was denying a search for her parents not because they didn't have the time. Because he knew they were dead and that she would never see them again.

Clementine started crying. Lee felt his heart rip in half. He reached out to her, but she just turned around, laying on the windowsill, curling into a ball. Lee sighed and got up, sitting on the couch. Only then he noticed Carley trying to slumber in the opposite end of the couch.

"Don't you want to cuddle?" Lee quipped, but with little joy, a last attempt at regain esprit.

"No, I'm still pissed at you." Carley said.

Lee breathed heavily and folded his arms. _Great. Just great. _He was on bad terms with the two people most important to him. Maybe Vernon was somewhat right. He wasn't destined for this, for parenting a child in the goddamned apocalypse. He removed Clementine's walkie-talkie from his belt and set it on the table. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Daryl woke up with tranquility. He opened his eyes slowly. The sun was rising, straws of early daylight piercing the room. He yawned and felt a bit guilty about lowering his guard like that, to take a nap.

"Walkers outside are good." Daryl said, in a hoarse voice while rubbing his eyes. "We oughta get going."

He reached for his crossbow without looking, in an instinct, but he didn't feel it. He opened his eyes and looked it his right. It wasn't there. _What the fuck? _He raised his head, a wave of panic sweeping him from the inside, and it was made clear. There was a guy sitting next to the sofa, with Lilly wide awake but kept silenced by gunpoint. He was about to speak when he felt the cold metal of a handgun barrel kiss his neck.

"Motherfucker." Daryl said.

"Asshole." The man replied. "Watch your mouth, boy. Right now, I'm the one who's aiming the gun at the head of your hot girlfriend, so I'd say a little respect would be nice. Nate, check him."

Nate, the dude holding the gun at Daryl, frisked him and extracted a knife from his pocket.

"What're you going to do with us?" Lilly asked.

"I don't know." The man said. "We want to get Harlan back, as you might have guessed."

"Fine. Let me go, I'll bring you Harlan." Daryl said.

The man grinned. "Didn't think it'd be so easy, huh? Nah, I know your group. We lost one of us to your group, this night right here. Ramiro was a decent guy. Wonder how his girlfriend will react to his death. In the meantime, you guys are coming with us."

"Where?"

"It's a surprise. Now, I think it's a bit tiresome to call people John and Jane Doe, especially because I have the feeling you'll be with me for a while, so tell me your names."

"Daryl."

"Lilly."

The man grinned. "I'm Clint. That over there is Nate."

"I traded a few bullets with some of your friends back on that bar in Atlanta." Nate said. "Killed Sean."

Clint laughed out loud, making Lilly and Daryl more austere. "Things don't look too good for you right now, do they? We have one saying I particularly like in our group – an eye for an eye. And the body-count on our side seems a bit high. Not to mention you took away two of us."

"Travis and Ben?" Lilly said. "Yeah, right. You left them for dead, and we took them in."

"Shut up." Clint said. "You speak when asked to. Now up on your asses. We've got a bit of a trip to make. And a warning to you, lady, if your limping slow us down too much, we'll leave you for the walkers."

The two men tied ropes around their wrists, with an additional strip of rope they could grab onto to lead them, as if they were dogs chained to a leash.

* * *

Lee woke up. He yawned and was pleased by the rest. He hadn't gotten it all night. "Clementine…?"

She wasn't in the windowsill. Carley was still slumbering. He stopped for a while to stare at her with a smile. Maybe it was cliché to think so, but she looked so peaceful and angelic in her sleep. He remained calm, until he saw that the walkie-talkie was missing too.

"Clementine?"

Lee walked down the stairs, a weight of worry growing in his chest. The whole group was sleeping profoundly, most of them bunked in the sofas and seating of the living room. He didn't spot her anywhere. _She's got to be in the backyard. _It was the sole possibility. But it was a possibility that concerned him.

He proceeded onto the backyard. _She's got to be around here somewhere._ "Clementine?! Clementine?!"

Lee noticed her purple hat fallen on the ground. He picked it up. She always wore that hat, and seeing it like that sent a bead of sweat down his forehead. Then, he heard a familiar electronic sizzling. _Her walkie-talkie. _It was over the fence, next to a couple of trashcans and a pile of trash. He climbed over the fence and picked it up.

He lost himself in his thoughts, trying to think of what might've happened to her, but his distraction allowed a walker to crawl from beneath the trash bags. It lurched towards his hand, jaws snapping, fast as a dart. Lee howled and recoiled, throwing the zombie against the fence. It fell on the ground after the impact, still alive. Lee felt a rage within him that was different, odd, more vile than ever, and with a swift stomp to the head he sent the walker to another realm, bashing its skull in.

Lee eased his breathing, dissipating the adrenaline. But as he returned to a normal state, he felt like there was a flame ignited in his wrist and a warm liquid running down his hand. He knew what it was, deep inside him. But he had to see it with his own eyes. Clementine's purple hat was sprinkled with blood. But it wasn't dark and thick, it was red and liquid. With all of his strength, he forced himself to look at his wrist.

"No…no…no…no…no…no…!"

Crimson teeth marks were carved into his flesh.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: The 50th milestone chapter is here. I want to use this (ridiculously long) author note to explain some things, so bear with me, and afterwards you'll get a juicy preview of the next arc.**

** First of all, Molly. In the original game, Molly left the group after Crawford, saying goodbye only to Lee. In this story however, she stays. I was originally going to have her leave anyway, but then I thought hard about why Molly left. She seemed to really want to stay, so I think the reason she left was because she didn't want to complicate the group's choice on who gets on the boat. In this story however, it was implied that Rick wasn't going to split the group, so Molly had a justification for staying. **

** Second of all, I'm not a rapper, so stop rappin' at me!**

** Just kidding. If you didn't get that reference, shame on you! Second of all, when Hershel slaps Billy, it's a bit of inspiration I took from the comics, because I remember a scene where he does a similar thing, slapping him. This Hershel right here is mostly based off the TV Show, but I decided to bring some elements from the comic, because while the comic Hershel was more of an ass at times, he was a flawed and understandable man, which really made him seem like a real person instead of a fictional character.**

** Thanks to the support you've all been giving me so far. The fact that there are dozens, if not hundreds, of people out there who enjoy my story to this point means a lot to me, and it's the fuel that keeps this story going. I'd like to give a big shout-out to some of my main G's, whose support is priceless: ZombieGuy96 (Thanks for the constant and great feedback), TheDomdotCom (thanks for pointing some mistakes I made), EpicHoboChuck (You the man, Chuck), Transformers g1's Prime (Great friend and great writer), Santiago Poncini 20 (Whenever I wrote your name normally, it disappeared, sorry), Rabbitman02 (Hope your computer isn't overheating too much), WritingForFood (Give him something to eat!), Paradoxilla (CarLee, bitch) and BLACK-OP1 (The numbers, Mason!).**

** One last thing you might find curious: adding a horizontal bar to a chapter, for some reason, adds 21 words to the word count. Coincidence? I think not.**

** Now, enjoy the preview for the next arc.**

* * *

**NEXT TIME ON THE WALKING DEAD**

* * *

** Lee turned to his friends. "I'm bit."**

** "No…no, there's no fucking way!" Kenny said.**

** Rick grasped his hair, speechless, pacing around nervously as he processed this information.**

* * *

** Lee strolled into the fallout shelter, accompanied by Rick, Kenny, Christa and Omid. "Vernon, get out here! All I want is the girl! No one needs to get hurt!**

* * *

** Lee's walkie-talkie sizzled. "Clementine?! Vernon, you son of a bitch!"**

** "_This isn't Vernon._" The man on the radio said. "_And if I were you, I'd pick my next words carefully._"**

* * *

**Lee stared out into the infinite sea of walkers, standing on top of the hospital. "Clementine's out there somewhere, gobbled up in all of that…"**

** "We'll get to her, Lee. We'll do whatever we have to." Christa said.**

** "There must be thousands of them…" Kenny said.**

** "They must've followed us here." Rick said.**

** "That's crazy." Christa said.**

** "That fucking train wasn't exactly discreet." Kenny said.**

* * *

** "So when we get this guy, what do you think?" Omid asked.**

** "We make sure he never takes anybody from anyone again." Lee said.**

* * *

** "We should've left your ass back at the farm!" Kenny berated in Ben's face. **

** "Everyone, keep it together! Don't turn on each other." Lee said.**

* * *

** Rick put his gun to the man's forehead. "You shouldn't have messed with us."**

* * *

** Christa and Omid observed the dead couple on the bed – somewhat similar to them – and pulled each other closer.**

* * *

** Nate dragged Lilly away. Daryl dashed forward. "Hey, don't take her!"**

** Clint struck him with the butt of his crossbow, sending Daryl to the ground, disoriented.**

**"_My, my, baby brother...rollin' in the dirt again?_"**

* * *

** Lee and Kenny flicked their eyes in all directions as the walkers flooded the alleyway.**

** "Get the fuck outta here." Kenny said.**

** "What?!" Lee said.**

** "She needs you, Lee!"**

** "Kenny…"**

** "This is not a discussion!" **

** "I'm not leaving!"**

* * *

** The walkers broke into the mansion from every entrance, shattering windows and rushing in through doors. The whole group stood banked at the end of the hallway, a fallen piece of furniture separating them from the horde limping towards them. They all fired their guns at them.**

* * *

** "What do you think?"**

** Rick smiled. "I think it's home."**

* * *

** Lee walked amongst the horde, no fear left within him, only a cleaver tight in his right hand.**

* * *

**"I WILL DO ANYTHING. I WILL DO ANYTHING TO SAVE CLEMENTINE."**

* * *

**THE WALKING DEAD**

**VOLUME/SEASON/EPISODE 4 – A DANGEROUS WORLD**

**COMING SOON**


	51. Gone Girl

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME/SEASON/EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 51 – GONE GIRL**

** AUTHOR NOTE: Hello. I'm sorry to interrupt your reading so early on, but I have a special shout-out to make. I got a certain review from a guest user named Simon, for chapter 50, in which he said, I now quote: "What the fuck, man?! You let that fucking Mary Sue into the group?! You had Lee get bit?! Are [you] fucking brain dead?!". You guys have no idea how much sadistic pleasure I got by reading that and I laughed out loud until my stomach hurt. Anyways, Simon, if you're reading this (which I guess you probably aren't), thanks for making my day with a great laugh!**

* * *

"Lee? Lee, you out here?"

He was snapped out of his trance, his jaw gaping open. He peeked towards the backyard through the corner of his eye. Christa, Ben Paul, Omid, Rick and Kenny, looking in every direction. Not seeing the man standing behind the shed, they proceeded through the gate. Lee pinpointed the thumping of their footsteps. _They must be circling around the mansion. They'll be here soon._

Lee grasped his wrist. His breathing was fastening and the panic was invading him like a curse spreading throughout his body. The sizzling of the radio was still audible, haunting him to the core. He had never been so clueless in his life, so unsure on what to do, so frozen to the bone. He knew he would be found by the group in just a few seconds. He tried to piece together the exact words to tell them, but it was like his brain was glitched, only one thought was clear in his mind and his eyes were locked in the teeth marks in his wrist, which were like a death sentence engraved in fire. _I'm bit. I'm bit._

His friends, after an eternity, turned around the corner behind him. Lee kept his back turned towards them, but he sensed them approaching, the steps becoming louder and closer.

"Lee? What're you doing out here? It ain't safe." Kenny said.

"Lee, where's Clementine? She's not in her room." Omid said.

"Vernon ain't in the house either! What the hell's going on?"

"Lee, you okay? You're a bit stoic." Rick said.

"Whose blood is that?" Christa said, her eyes stretched open.

Lee spent all that time, trying to find the most elaborated way to describe what happened to him, but the sole answer was simple, yet harsh. With a long sigh, he turned to his group, defeat drawn all over his face. Rick frowned with concern, he'd never seen him like this. Something was awfully wrong. Lee cleared his throat. "It's mine."

He raised his arm. Their eyelids spanned open and the air was sucked from their lungs.

"Oh my God…" Christa said.

"No way…" Kenny said, stiffening his eyebrows and his voice forged by wrath. "No fucking way!"

Everything was spiraling out of control. Rick stared at that flesh wound, everything else in his field of vision blurred out. His stomach was struck by nausea and he felt the bile clawing to escape his stomach. _No. _Out of all the people they had and would lose along the way, Lee was someone he couldn't bear to lose. He'd been side by side with him ever since the beginning, his counselor, his opponent, his supporter, his teacher, the one who truly understood him. His brother.

Rick ran back towards the fence and vaulted over it in a maddened hurry. They spun their heads towards him. "Rick, where…?" Omid said.

Before he could finish his sentence, Rick had already barged back into the house. Lee let out a breath, he had no idea how he would be dealing with such a shocking revelation. "He's not gonna take this easy. Listen, there's no time to worry about me. Clementine's gone."

"There's no chance she just wandered off on her own?" Omid asked.

"No. No way."

"Then who the hell took her?" Kenny said.

"I don't know. Last night Vernon came to me and offered to take her with him. Said she'd be better off."

"Son of a bitch. I knew we couldn't trust that fucker!"

"Wherever she is, I have to find her."

"Okay. What do you need from us?" Christa asked.

"Clem may not have much time. We have a better chance of finding her if we all go together. Who's with me?"

"We're all responsible for Clementine." Christa said, her tone calm and sensible. "And in your condition, you might not make it to her in time. She needs our help. All of our help."

"Damn right. We can't let you do this alone." Omid said.

"So that's settled. We'll look for Clementine together."

"Hell yeah. What're we waiting for?"

"Are you sure about this? It could be dangerous." Lee said.

"As opposed to what? Day-to-day life these days?" Omid chuckled.

"We're sure, Lee. Just lead the way." Christa said.

Lee gave them a head gesture. The end of world had exposed people's darkest colors, but he felt supported knowing those generous people were able to put their life on the line for him. He turned to Kenny. "Lee, man…you know I care about Clementine. And I am a man of faith. But I keep asking myself, if this was me, asking you for help, asking you to put your life on the line, would you be there for me? Because there've been plenty of times where you ain't been."

Lee frowned. He knew what he was talking about. He didn't back up his choice back on that meat locker. He didn't like it a whole lot and the man had a thick head and knew how to hold grudges. He still felt he was being slightly ungrateful, since he helped him traverse the toughest moments of his life. Yet, rubbing it in his face probably wouldn't convince him. "Kenny. You know what Clementine means to me. She's my family now. She's all I've got."

Kenny let out a breath, teeming with guilt. "Hell…in the end, family's all that matters. And you were there for Katjaa and Duck when it mattered most, I guess. Alright. I'm in."

Lee then spotted Ben, with a twisted expression, just cowering in silence behind them, avoiding his gaze. "What about you, Ben?"

"Now, hold on a damn minute. I'm not going if this little shitbird is too. Lee, you want to bring Clementine back alive, you'll leave him behind. He fucks up everything he touches!"

"Deal with it, Kenny!" Lee said. "The way I see it, Ben still has a chance to make things right. If he wants it. How about it, Ben?"

"I…I don't know…whatever you think it's best."

"I can't make that decision for you, Ben. You have to decide for yourself."

Ben smiled at him. "You've been good to me, Lee. Even when it's not been easy. You saved me and Travis from dying out there. Whatever you need me to help, you can count on me."

"Okay, guys, we should go see Vernon. See if he took her. Let's head out."

"Aren't you going to tell…Carley?" Omid asked.

Lee felt a lump in his throat. The clock counting his lifespan was ticking fast, and a great sadness crumbled upon him knowing that what his lover would suffer. But letting her know just yet, would it help? No. The priority was Clementine. Always. "I don't want the group to be in a panic just yet. Let's keep it between us in the meanwhile, okay?"

Rick rushed out back into the backyard, climbing over the fence so fast and so sloppy that he almost fell on his back. Lee quirked an eyebrow, wondering why the hell he ran into the mansion and rushed back outside. Just then, he showed a cleaver tight in his hand.

Rick brushed past the people in front of him with brusque pushes. He grasped his friend's shoulders and shoved him onto the ground, catching Lee off guard. He tumbled on the concrete, those around him watching the scene, paralyzed, while the towering figure of Rick kneeled next to him. Lee opened his mouth but no sound came out from his strangled throat. Rick grappled his hand and stretched out his left arm. "Rick, what the fuck?!"

Christa, Omid, Ben and Kenny viewed the scene, exchanging confused glances and remaining paralyzed. Rick raised the cleaver. "You're not dying. Not today."

"Wait, wait, wait, Rick-"

The blade plummeted onto his elbow. He let out a deafening scream, his vocal cords even becoming sore. The pain drilled his entire body, making him squirm and kick, pushing Rick away. Rick remained sturdy, holding him down, staring at the wound that was squirting blood. He had to cut further, but he couldn't be precise if he kept moving around like that. "Someone, for fuck's sake, pin him down and cover his mouth!"

Christa, Omid and Ben remained frozen. Kenny nodded. He was right, what he was doing could work. He rushed to his side, kneeling down and nailing Lee to the ground using the strength of his arm and, with his other hand, covering Lee's mouth. Rick kept hacking away, one cut after the other with no pause, the blood spraying on his face and coat. Lee's muffled hollers intensified, but eased when he felt himself drifting away. Rick panted heavily, his lungs aching like if he had come from a marathon. The arm was attached by a thread of flesh. He downed the blade one last time, with nearly no force left, but it was enough to slice it off.

Lee's eyelids fluttered shut and his conscience floated away. He went limp. Rick fell back, dropping the cleaver, his hands shaking. He couldn't believe the gory scene unraveled in front of him, much less believe he was the one who did it. But if it saved his friend, it was worth. He shook his head; this wasn't the time to stop. A pool of blood was enlarging below his stump. Kenny looked at him. "Quick, stop his bleeding."

Rick tore off his coat and wrapped it in a thick ball of tissue, and pressed it against his wound. Ben hid behind the couple, his gaze fixated elsewhere. Omid scratched his head, while he exchanged sickened glanced with his girlfriend. "Jesus, I can't believe you just…"

"Let's take him inside, he's losing blood!" Rick said.

* * *

Lee woke up with a jolt, sucking in a long breath. His left arm was on fire, warm and soaked in a gooey liquid. He looked around his surroundings. He was laying on the mansion sofa, the whole group around him gawking at him with worried expressions. He let out a grunt. _Fuck, now they know. _He turned to his left arm. He grimaced, staring at that bandaged stump that sent a shiver down his spine. He still felt his fingers down there, some kind of phantom sensation. Carley was at his side, clutching his hand.

"Lee!" Carley exclaimed.

She grasped him in a hug, suffocating him. Lee coughed and tapped her back lightly. "Carley, Carley…it's okay…"

She distanced herself, her eyes shining. His head was pulsating with pain.

"God, we're so glad to see you woke up." Rick said.

Lee examined his stump with spanned eyelids. "Geez…"

"You were bleeding a lot." Hershel said. "You're lucky you were so close to the house. I disinfected you with some alcohol and bandaged it up as well as I could."

"Thanks. But I gotta go." Lee said, getting up.

He set his feet on the ground, but wobbled and his headache thrummed harder. He reached for the couch, leaning on its back. He pivoted his gaze throughout the room, gathering strength. Molly was standing in the corner, her lips curved. She advanced towards him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Take it easy." Molly said. "You realize you just lost an arm, right?"

Carley narrowed his look towards her. Lee nodded with little conviction. "I have to go. Clementine's missing and I have to get to her. Don't try to talk me out of it. Rick and the others, let's go."

"I'm coming with you then." Carley said, standing up.

Lee smiled and nodded towards her. "Okay, then. C'mon, we have to be fast."

"But what me? I should go too." Molly said.

"Thanks. But I'd rather if you stayed here. Just, hold down the fort, you know?"

Molly remained silent and just nodded, folding her arms. Lee thought maybe she was regretting her choice to stick around, and he was the only person in the ground she truly befriended, so she would be left in an uncomfortable situation. But he couldn't take a very large group with him, not if he wanted to be fast. He eyed each member of their large group, some lowering their head, others nodding at him. He walked away towards the backdoor, followed by his handful of friends.

* * *

Within the underbelly of the sewers, Lee led his shrunken group towards the fallout shelter. Kenny, Omid, Christa and Ben lagged behind him, not questioning any of the twists and turns they made. Carley walked by his side and Rick strolled not too far from him. His visage was blank and his body language neutral, regardless of their current situation. Lee knew he was focused on the task, but who knew what else was going through his mind. At least he could be thankful for his determination on finding Clementine, he didn't want to be looked after, Clementine was all he wanted.

"Hey. Listen, I just want to say, thanks for cutting my arm off." Lee said. "It might've…"

"We don't know if it worked yet." Rick said firmly. "Let's not cheer just yet. Let's just see."

"Yeah, of course."

"How—how are you feeling? I—I mean, fever? Pain? Anything?" Carley asked in stutters.

"I'm fine." Lee said. "Listen, I know this is hard. But I need you to think about Clementine. She's all that matters now."

Carley was different from Rick though. With her arms crossed and tucked against her torso, her eyes were glinting with tears, her voice throbbing whenever she spoke. She was worried sick, but Lee couldn't detain her from coming with him. She chuckled. "The one and only Lee Everett. Never thinking about his own well-being."

"This is it." Lee announced.

They stopped in front of the large, blue sign. Lee yanked it out of the way, revealing the hole in the concrete. He slid inside, one leg after the other. He whipped out his gun, standing in front of the door. He glimpsed past his shoulder, Rick and the others giving him a nod. He exhaled, before kicking the door in.

His blood ran cold. Everything and everyone, gone. The warmth of human presence, the blankets and pillows, the lit candles with the tangerine glow, the table sheets, all of it disappeared, leaving only the brute grey and freezing ambiance of the former morgue. "Where's everyone?"

They intruded the morgue, a shiver running down their spines. "Looks like they got out in a hurry." Kenny said.

"They sure seem to have done a good job at not leaving any trace." Rick said.

_It couldn't be. _Lee remained still, his mind overclocking at thinking of what could've happened. _Maybe he's still in here? Hidden somewhere? _He had nothing to lose. He sauntered through the middle of the room, his arms raised at the height of his shoulders. "Vernon! Get out here! There doesn't have to be any trouble here! All I want is the girl! Give her back and no one needs to get hurt!"

Silence. The breeze flew through the window, the hollowed out room making them sound like human breaths. Lee sighed and leaned on one of the dissecting counters, burying his forehead in his hand. His friends watched him from behind, knowing full well they were incapable of consoling him. Carley walked to his side and rubbed his back, doing her damnedest to hold back the tears. Lee lifted his head. Passivity would not help him. He looked up towards the small, horizontal windows high up on the wall that stretched about three meters tall.

Pairs of feet came into view, blocking out the light, dragging themselves across the street.

Lee straightened his posture. His friends followed his gaze onto what he was seeing. Soon, the humanoid creatures outside emitted an off-key moaning that weaved into the morgue. But it wasn't just coming from outside. It was echoing from the sewer tunnels. As if to break the mood, Lee's radio sizzled.

"_Lee?_"

Lee reached for the walkie-talkie fast as a lightning bolt. "Clementine? Are you all right? Where are you?"

There was no response. "Vernon, you son of a bitch!"

"_Hello, Lee._"

The voice was now bulky and masculine. "Who is this?!"

"_It's not Vernon, if that's what you're thinking. And you should really watch your tone. Clementine's fine. But if I were you, I'd choose my next words very carefully._"

Lee opened his mouth, crushing the lateral button. Should he plead, threaten, ask for his demands or just be silent? "Please, don't hurt her."

"_Hurt her? I'm not the one who hurts people. There's an ocean of dead between you and me and her, and if I can thank God for anything anymore, it's that._"

The radio beeped, marking the end of their conversation. He strapped the walkie-talkie on his belt. "Fuck…"

"Don't worry, pal. We'll get her back." Rick said.

Christa peeked toward his stump. "How's that feeling?"

"It's fine." Lee said. "I mean, it could be worse."

"Yeah, totally." Omid said with a half-smirk.

"We don't have much time." Christa said.

The moaning grew closer. They turned around. The walkers had reached the sewers, clogging the tunnels, and limping in their directions, toppling over the hole in the wall.

"We're about to have a lot less." Kenny said, shoving the door closed. "We'll make sure nothing gets in. You're still the smartest fucker outta all of us, try to find another way out of here."

Lee and Carley exchanged a glance. The rest of them took out their guns and bunked in front of the door, their weapons aimed towards it. Carley started opening the cabinets, while Lee paced around the room, inspecting them with a sharp eye. He glanced inside the cold chambers.

"Nothing through here." Lee said.

"Damn, I was hoping they'd dug some secret tunnels in there." Kenny said.

Rick curved an eyebrow and glared at him. "What? That's just stupid."

Lee looked towards the end of the room. He saw two elevator doors. Maybe he could pry them open. In an instinct, he stretched out both his arms, but remembered that now he only had five fingers, in his right hand. He squeezed his fingers in the gap, but they didn't fit through. It wasn't going to work. Too tight.

Carley jogged towards him, showing him a rib spreader. "Lee, I found this prying-thingy. It might help."

Lee took the object. Carley wrested the elevator doors a few millimeters, then Lee stuck the rib spreader between them. He yanked the lever back and forth, the elevator doors spreading out. But quickly, a migraine struck him and his vision became dizzy.

"Here, let me." Carley said, gesturing him to take his hand off and allow her.

Lee blinked and rubbed his temples. He opened his eyes. Everything was clear once more. All good. "Also, it's called a rip spreader."

"Oh, shut up."

The elevator doors were open. Lee turned to his friends. "Guys, c'mon, I found a way out."

They jogged towards the elevator, glimpsing past their shoulders to verify that the door stayed shut. The elevator shaft had stuffy air and was as dark as the night itself, but they could discern a ladder on the wall, stretching up about ten stories, and the elevator dangling a few floors up, tottering a bit as if it was hung by a single thread.

"I'll bring up the rear. I don't want to bleed on anyone." Lee said.

They stared at him for a few seconds, but didn't object.

"Aw, jeez." Lee said, contemplating the ladder.

"We're going to have to go as quiet as possible and see if we can make it to an empty floor or even the roof. You think it's possible for you?" Christa said.

"Yeah. Get going."

After they were all on the ladder, Lee started climbing. He had to be quite careful. With each step, he hoisted himself and held the next bar with a tight grip. If he misplaced his fingers, the consequences were obvious and fatal.

"You okay down there? Remember, quiet?" Omid asked.

"You talking isn't 'quiet'." Rick said.

"It's no big deal. Another arm…would just get in the way."

"Jesus Christ, Lee." Christa said.

To their left, there were the open entrances to each floor, where light came through, but Lee could see from the corner of his eye that they were packed with walkers. Christa gasped. Lee looked up and saw a zombie falling, and him placed in the middle of the trajectory. He squeezed his torso against the ladder, and the walker flew behind him. They listened to its body splashing on the ground with a disgusting crack.

"Shit!" Lee said.

"Oh, man, oh jeez…" Ben said.

"Shut the fuck up, Ben." Kenny said.

"Everything okay up there?" Lee asked.

"I think I just peed myself." Ben said.

"So yes, then."

* * *

Daryl moved his wrists around. The rope was tight, nearly cutting off his circulation. He tried to remember if he had any item left on him that could aid his escape, but his pockets were empty. The situation wasn't easy. In the meanwhile, he was dragged through the streets of Savannah alongside Lilly.

Clint and Nate halted near a pier, that was anchored to the shore of a vast river. "Alright, we'll be waiting for a while. Stay quiet." Clint said.

"What are we waiting for?" Daryl asked.

"You'll see." Clint said.

Daryl looked at Lilly. They engaged in a telepathic conversation. He gestured his head towards her restraints. She shook her head to the sides. _They're tight too. _He then glanced at her leg. The bandage had stanched the bleeding, but who knew if it had gotten infected or not.

Five men appeared around a corner. Nate waved at them. "They're here."

The five men had bandannas covering their faces, which they took off once they approached their friends. But most importantly, they had rifles, bows and arrow quivers on their backs. The man that appeared to be leading them had dark skin and cropped hair.

"Don, you guys okay?" Clint asked.

"Hell no, for fuck's sake!" Don said. "Ramiro, they took him out! One minute, he was there, then—then he was hit and he just fell off the roof!"

"Hey, calm down. Shit." Clint glanced towards the two prisoners, with a grin. "Things just keep looking worst for you, don't they?"

"Wait, who are they?"

"From the sheriff's group."

"What the fuck, man?! We should throw them in the goddamned water and let them drown!"

"Calm down. They might be useful." Clint said, then leaning in and whispering into his air. Daryl cursed under his breath, not hearing what they were saying.

"Meanwhile," Clint continued, in a regular voice. "I need you guys to do something else. All of you, go to the mansion with your firepower and you destroy that fucking place. See if you can bring back Harlan. Make them see this note before you do it, though."

Daryl and Lilly peered at each other, frowning. Clint slid them a piece of paper. Don read it, before shoving it back into his pocket.

"What if they comply to your demand?" He asked.

"Shoot the place up anyway. Hopefully, they'll give Harlan up before you tear it down, since you risk of hitting him. Alright guys, trot off now."

Don snapped his fingers at his bowmen, then the five of men sprinted away, with their weapons making a metallic clank as they hopped up and down on their backs.

"You're fucking dead." Daryl said.

"Watch your fucking tongue." Clint said, punching him in the stomach.

Daryl coughed and took a large breath, staying as straight as possible. Never show weakness to the enemy.

"Goddammit." Clint said. "Keep up with your lack of respect and I might just throw you into the water. You'll be sleeping with the fishes."

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: Oh yes, one more thing, I took some extra time uploading this chapter because I've decided to already have the next chapter written at all times, hopefully this advance will result in earlier updates. Also, I changed the arc's title but I doubt anyone gives a flying fuck.**


	52. The Last Stand

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 52 – THE LAST STAND**

Rick pushed the rooftop door of the hospital. The blazing sunlight percussed them, stinging their eyes and warming their skin. They covered their faces as they stepped into the rooftop, the city skyline clarifying as their pupils adjusted. Lee sighed, the fresh air and warmth was a relief compared to the murky and cold obscurity of the shaft. Looking behind towards the wall erected before him, he saw a large word painted. 'HELP', the P left unfinished. Next to his feet, laid two half-filled cans of white paint and a retractable ladder. The whole urbanized landscape unfolded around them, stretching towards the horizon. Savannah used to be a ghost town, but now the semblance had shifted. A thin fog of dust floated about and the wind carried the moaning of the dead, so loud that it was like the deafening uproars of industrial machines. Lee approached the edge, his friends gravitating around him. Below their feet, the streets were flooded by the walkers around every corner, as if a tsunami of walking corpses had swept the town. Each lurker bore different traces on their bodies of their past life, but their limping and grey skin made them look all the same.

"Remember when Savannah was empty?" Kenny said.

"Those Crawford bastards did one thing right, I guess." Christa said, her eyebrows narrowed and a stoic stare fixated on the horde.

"There must be thousands of them." Kenny said.

"Did they follow us here?" Ben said.

"It sure seems like it."

"That's crazy. They can't track, they just roam." Carley said.

"Is it? That fucking train wasn't exactly discreet." Kenny said.

"It doesn't matter, we have to do something." Rick said.

Lee gawked out into the tide of walkers. The Stranger was right about one thing. There was an ocean of walkers he had to plow through to reach the person most precious to him. "Clementine's out there, somewhere. Gobbled up in all of that."

"We'll get to her, Lee. We'll do whatever we have to." Carley said, massaging his back.

"Look, let's get our bearings and see if we can make it across town. Good? Good." Rick said.

"I, uh, don't think we can just ignore what happened to Lee." Omid said. "He lost a lot of blood."

Lee grimaced at his stump that dripped an occasional drop of blood.

"Omid's right." Carley said. "If you see yourself getting woozy, or…you know."

Christa sighed. "If it didn't work…"

"It did."

"Okay. I'll probably just need to go a little slower. I know we can't afford dead weight. So, don't treat me like I am." Lee said.

"We won't." Rick said.

"Now what?" Omid said.

Christa breathed. "We need to get down there and find a scared, little girl. Let's try to get our bearings."

The group split up and each one diverged to an opposite edge of the rooftop. Lee glanced around him. There was a bell tower next to the hospital, albeit it was separated from them by about five meters. He had an idea. But first, he wanted to check up on everyone. Lee stood next to Ben, following his gaze. In the distance, amid a density of trees, there was the tip of an apartment building.

"You came with me." Lee said.

"You didn't think I would?" Ben said. "I know Clementine's important to you, and the way you saved me and Travis even though our group was shooting at you…I'd be a big piece of crap if I didn't."

"If we get over to that bell tower, we might have some impact on all those walkers out there."

"And then just run through the streets? I don't know."

"What do you think about this?"

"I think I'm staring down at my worst nightmare. Just a dusty haze of death."

"Try to keep your shit together. We need to get off this roof."

Lee strolled towards Christa. The dome of a church highlighted the horizon. "That's the church across the street from the mansion. River Street should be just beyond that."

"We need to head back that way." Christa said. "We'll stop off at the mansion, and make sure we didn't overlook anything."

"Yeah. Just need to figure out a way to get there…anything over here?"

"Honestly, my vision isn't great. I think it's allergies or all that shit those walkers are kicking up."

"Allergies, shit. People used to get those."

"I know, right. You never see anybody in an end of the world story with hayfever. It's not the time to get wistful."

"I know. It's this deal with Clem…it's everything, it's put this rage inside me like I can't even say. I used to get allergies too. And just…fuck. Who was that guy?"

"Someone with priorities?"

"I was thinking you and Omid wouldn't come with me."

"Can't stop looking out for each other."

"You two have been solid since day one."

Christa grinned. "What is this, day three? Four?"

"Well, I appreciate it."

He headed towards Omid now, who was in front of the bell tower. The gap between the rooftop and the tower could be crossed, if they had something to bridge it with, but jumping across was impossible. "How's the leg?"

"It's doing a lot better." Omid smiled. "Thanks for going into Crawford for me. Even if it wasn't entirely for me. Clementine too. She's tough as hell."

"Isn't she?"

"Yeah. Don't worry more about her than you should be, okay?"

"I think you're Clem's favorite, you know that?"

Omid's eyes extended open with a glow. "Really?"

"Yeah, she's a big fan." Lee said. "You get away with shit I never would."

Omid frowned, his smile dissipating. "We're getting her back, Lee. You know that, right?"

Lee nodded. "Yeah."

"When we get this fucker, we'll get out of sight and leave you with him. You get me?"

Lee tilted his head, then replied with an unconvincing tone as he didn't want to consider scenarios he wasn't sure would happen. "I get you."

Lee spotted Rick afterwards, but he wasn't staring into the distance, searching for a way out. His gaze was hunkered low and he seemed a bit zoned out. He walked towards him. "Listen, thanks about what you did at the mansion. I'm not sure if it'll work, but maybe you might just have bought me enough time."

Rick sighed. "I did what I had to. God, Lee. When I saw you with that bite mark on your wrist, I just…everything seemed to spiral out of control. I wasn't me, I just acted."

"Never thought you'd be this distressed about me getting bit."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?! I know we've had our adversities, but you've been there from the start. You've done a lot for me. A friend like you, we don't all get the luxury in the end of the world."

"Are you okay? It seems like you're dwelling on something."

"I'm fine. There's just too much being thrown at me at once. Daryl and Lilly are gone, you're bit, we've got people out for our heads and Clementine taken. I think I'm losing control of everything, of the group, of myself. I don't feel like myself anymore. I've done horrible things, Lee. But it's like…I've gotten used to them. Like they're routine, you see? Though they still torment me."

Lee nodded. What he was saying didn't surprise him, it was more the fact that he was saying it to someone else instead of keeping it reserved to himself. Rick always had an austere expression, maybe a confident smile, and a straight posture, never showing an emotion, only showing the caring family husband and the great dictator vibe that sometimes hid his good intentions. But his expression looked so tired and lifeless, his weaknesses bleeding through his words. "I get you. Whenever I think back to when…before all this happened, it's like I have a hard time remembering. Who I was, what it was like. It's like life has always been like this, and our past life was just a dream."

"Yeah. I think we all feel that." Rick said, terminating with a long sigh. "Anywho, I think that's enough chitchat. We oughta go back to searching for an escape."

"Daryl and Lilly…what do you want to do with them?"

Rick stayed silent, gazing into the walkers as if they held the answer. "It's really difficult for me to say this. But we can't have search parties if the whole town's overrun."

"I know we might come to a hard choice if they don't make it back home." Lee said. "We'll get through it."

"Maybe after we get Clementine, we'll leave Savannah and—and we'll circle around the city, see if we can find them, maybe camp down for a few days to see if they show up."

"You don't seem very hopeful."

"How could you be in these circumstances?"

Lee left him and met up with Carley. "Still mad at me?"

"Gosh, Lee, I'm so sorry." She said. "I shouldn't been like that to you. Molly just doesn't seem right to me. But I went out of line."

"It's okay, let's just forget about that." Lee said, and as if it was purely gravity, their hands came together.

"I'm glad you're staying strong. Clementine needs that." Lee said.

Carley chuckled nervously and sniffled. "I'm a damned mess."

"You're doing your best. We're not all made of stone."

Lee kissed her forehead and headed towards Kenny.

"Everything okay?" Lee asked.

"Nah. I'm just, uh, taking a minute actually." He said. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't."

"What's wrong?"

"Just…everything. Ah, fuck man. You know."

"I do."

"I can't thank you enough for what you did to Duck. I don't know how I'd be if you hadn't…"

"Don't dwell on it."

"I look at where we are, right now, and I can't imagine Kat and Duck in all this mess."

"Ken…"

"No, I'm sorry. We're in a fucking hurry to get off this roof. It's not the time. I'm sorry. I'm okay."

"How many you think are wandering around underneath us right now?" Lee asked.

"In the hospital?" Kenny said. "Thousands. Who knows? It was full of dead before, right?"

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking."

"And out there? Look at that dust. Fuck, man, who knows?"

Lee nodded. Everyone taken accounted for, he had to get his plan working. He set his hand on the middle of the ladder and lifted it, his wrist piquing at the one-hand effort. His friends sprung around towards him, seeing him struggling with hauling such a heavy object. "Woah, you need some help with that?" Kenny asked.

"I got it." Lee said.

"Bullshit." Carley said.

She held the end of the ladder, easing the weight on him. The duo sauntered towards the edge and stretched out the ladder, setting it on the rooftop then inclining it until it struck the bell tower, forming a diagonal passageway. "The bells…" Christa said.

"Yeah, could buy us some time." Lee said. "Draw as many as we can this way, get down off the roof on the opposite side and bust our asses getting back to the mansion."

"You think you should be the one to go?" Kenny asked.

"My leg's feeling better, let me do it." Omid said.

"No. Listen, Lee, this is out of your current capacities. Let me do it." Carley said.

"I'll do it." Ben said.

"Yeah, Ben will do it." Kenny said.

"If we have to decide who takes a risk like this, it should be the guy who's got the least to lose. What's the worst that can happen, I get bitten again?" Lee said. "So we're agreed then."

Carley put her hand on his shoulder. "Just be careful, okay?"

Lee turned around and set a foot on the ladder. He escalated it with slow headways, his chin raised high towards the blue sky. Such beautiful weather on such a gloomy day. The jovial contradiction was almost sickening. But it was either looking at that, or looking down at the abyss of concrete and zombies.

"Why the hell are we letting the one-armed guy do all the high-risk maneuvers?" Kenny said.

"Because the one-armed guy insists. Now shut up about it."

Kenny rolled his eyes over the ladder. "That thing looks a little rickety."

"Maybe keep that shit to yourself next time."

"Yup."

Lee reached the second half of the ladder. _Half of the battle. _He cheered too soon. The dog clutch holding the ladder stretched out broke off. That metallic clank reached his ears and paralyzed him. The ladder was shrinking, and his eyes were locked on the its tip, that was close to slip from the tower. In a mad instinct, he ran up the ladder and jumped onto the tower, just as the ladder fell onto the depths below, striking a walker dead on its skull. Lee panted heavily, leaning on his knees. "Aw, fuck."

"Holy shit, man!" Omid screamed.

"Are you okay?!" Carley shouted.

"Yeah, I'm fine! Was wishing I had my other hand."

"No shit!" Omid said. "Try to find another way out of there?"

Lee glimpsed around, but found no other exit point. The bell was hung in the middle of the squared tower, and a rope was dangling on the corner. He grasped it and yanked it down, several times in a row. The bell swayed back and forth, the clapper colliding against the sides, the ringing echoing throughout the city. He glanced towards the streets. The herds were pivoting around, dragging their feet towards the tower. On the opposite side, there was a large opening for them to pass through. Mission accomplished. _But now, how the hell am I gonna get out of here?_

"They're coming this way!" Rick said.

"Tons of them." Omid said.

"Now get back here!" Carley said.

Lee stood at the edge. "I think I have to jump! There's no way back!"

"You can make it! It ain't that far!" Kenny said.

"Jesus, Lee, take some momentum at least!" Carley screamed.

"You can make it, bud!" Rick said.

"You got this. You got this, motherfucker." Lee told himself.

Lee backed up with slow steps, the fear swelling within him. He took a deep breath, then sprinted towards the edge. He leaped in the air, his arms and legs flailing to reach the adjoining rooftop. He landed hard with one leg, his body careening backwards but he gripped onto a vent that ran around the roof. Carley grabbed him and hoisted him back up. "Thank God you made it."

"Good goddamned leap, pal." Kenny said.

"You said it. Now let's get the hell outta this roof!" Rick said.

They rushed towards the emergency stairwell and thundered down it, only one thought in mind. Get back home.

* * *

Molly leaned on the railing, on the second floor, overseeing the whole group bunked below. She chewed on her nails, nearly tearing them off. She couldn't believe Lee was bit. He didn't deserve it, he was the man that made her regain faith in people. Maybe it was a silly choice. She shouldn't have stayed with this group. It always ended like that, she started caring for someone and they were taken away. Her brain started concocting a plan to sneak out without anyone noticing and run as far as she could, as if it had become an instinct. Flee from the living. Floorboards creaked near her, halting her train of thought.

Andrea came up the stairs. Molly sighed. _God, please don't come talk to me._

"So, I didn't quite catch your name." Andrea said, situating herself next to her in the same position.

Molly let out a breath. "Molly."

"Andrea. Listen, I know that being with us might be a bit overwhelming at first, you know, a lot of strangers, but you're welcome here."

Molly shrugged. "Thanks."

"But no one knows a thing about you, except for Lee." Andrea said. "All of us, we come from Atlanta. There were more of us, of course. We were hidden in a quarry, and we camped there. Then Lee, Rick, and of course Clementine, arrived and things changed. The place was getting more walkers, and we left. We've been hopping around from safe-place to safe-place but…"

"The dead always win?"

"Yeah. Yeah, they do. We've met some crazy people. This family who were cannibals."

"Hmph. Geez." Molly said in an empty tone, frowning.

"This group of bandits who tried to kill us. Now this Harlan guy and his group. You know, I used to have a sister."

Molly's head perked up, a glint in her eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah. When the quarry got overrun, you see. She just got up to go the camper, and a walker grappled her from behind, and bit her. I clutched her in my arms as I watched her bleed away. She…she died in my arms."

"What did…what did you do?"

"I waited for her to come back. And I…"

Words were unnecessary for them to understand what happened. Nevertheless, she continued.

"I put her down."

Molly gulped. It was bizarre, a feeling that was foreign to her, but she wanted to tell this woman what had happened to her too. Her situation was so similar to hers. Maybe she related? Molly sighed as she gave in to the temptation. "I lost my sister too."

Andrea looked at her, sniffling. "What happened?"

"We lived in Crawford. They were real bastards, but it was safe. But the sick, the old and the young weren't allowed. My sister was diabetic. One day, they just took her away. Couldn't even say goodbye…"

Andrea had a brief smile and rubbed her back. "Maybe we're not so diff-"

The front window shattered. The whole group flinched in a reflex, while a projectile flew into the mansion and landed on the carpet with a thump, the fragments of glass chiming as they crumbled on the floor. The residents huddled around the object, scratching their heads. Andrea and Molly cannonaded down the stairs, their gazes locked on the item. It was just a rock, with a crumbled paper taped on it. Andrea unscrewed it and read it.

"You have five minutes to give Harlan back, otherwise we'll shoot up the house and kill Daryl and Lilly." Andrea said.

A wave of panic radiated the room, putting everyone on alert, an itching feeling on their napes of being watched. Molly dashed towards the broken window, peeking through the curtains. Their attackers were well-hidden, but they didn't slip from her eagle-eyes. They took cover behind wrecked cars, inside buildings or laid prone on the rooftops, with their rifles beamed at the mansion.

"Shit, there are five guys outside. Heavy firepower." Molly said.

"What're we going to do?!" Jimmy said.

"We can't give them Harlan, you can scrap that option off the list!" Travis said.

"Sorry kid, but we have to do it, otherwise we're all gonna die!" Dale said.

"Guys like these, I'm not sure if they'll keep their end of the bargain." Molly said.

Travis nodded, gesturing his arm towards the woman. "She's right! I know Harlan, he'll play dirty if he has to. The second we give them Harlan back, they'll kill us anyway."

"What do you propose? Fighting back?" T-Dog said. "We can't leave Daryl and Lilly for dead!"

"If we shoot first, we'll have the element of surprise to take them. Plus, they're five out there, they're clearly outnumbered. Your friends will just have to fare for themselves. But if we give them Harlan, they don't have any reason not to shoot us!"

"Travis is right." Andrea said, her tone grave. "Here's what we'll do, all of those who are able fighters, stay here and grab a weapon. That means me, Molly, Jimmy, Travis, Chuck, Dale, Glenn, Maggie and T-Dog. We can't all stay down here though, since we only have one window to shoot through. Maggie and Dale, you go upstairs into the bedrooms to provide additional fire. The rest of you, go upstairs into the attic. I hope there's no objections. Now go."

T-Dog brought the duffel bag full of weaponry into the living room, with the remnants of their ammunition. Glenn and Maggie got two automatic rifles, before they exchanged a tight hug. "Stay safe." Maggie whispered in his ear.

"Yeah. I'll stay alive for you." Glenn said.

Maggie caressed his cheek, sure to leave her mark of affection on him before both of them put their life on the tightrope. She hurried to her sniper's nest with Dale, his sniper rifle slung on his shoulder. The rest of the group, mostly composed of the families, the younger ones and the women, walked up the stairs. Beth strolled away with her family. Jimmy folded his arms. She barely even glanced at him. He had to do something. He was going to risk his life in a few minutes, so he had nothing left to lose. Letting out a sigh, he rushed towards her and grabbed her wrist.

"Not even gonna say something?" He said.

Beth remained still, not expecting him to be assertive instead of passive. Billy Greene tapped her shoulder, his cheek bruised. "Uh, sis, c'mon, now it really ain't the time for this."

"I'll be quick." Jimmy said. Her family nodded with reluctance, and proceeded with the others.

"What do you want?" Beth asked, somewhat swayed by his new attitude.

"I just wanted to say that no matter what happens…I always had the best of intentions."

The two stayed in a hypnosis, staring into each other's eyes. Travis looked at them, his lip twitching. "Hey, not the time to get lovey-dovey!"

The fighters conferred around the duffel bag, equipping themselves with a handgun or rifle, which were plentiful. The issue was the bullet-cases and clips, which were empty or scarce. They all started the same drills, inserting magazines, yanking back bolts, sliding off safeties or looking down aiming notches. "We ain't got too much." T-Dog said.

"We wasted too much at the farm." Travis said.

"It's gonna be a tough fight." Chuck said, peeping outside. "I hope you're ready to suffer your casualties."

"Hey, don't start thinking that way." Andrea said.

"We'll have to be careful, the gunfire is gonna bring a lot of walkers." Glenn said.

"We're gonna have to give them everything we got." T-Dog said.

"Almost seems like this is our last stand." Molly said.

The mansion palpitated, the devastating storm of gunfire began to thunder outside. Bullets started flying, piercing the wooden walls through which straws of light shone and ravaging the furniture. They jumped on the ground, stretching out their bodies and crawling behind the sofas or the fireplace. The splinters rained on them and the shots whizzed past them just a few meters above them. Andrea raised her head. It hadn't been five minutes. But the worst of all was that most of their friends were still on the stairwell, curled into balls, not having had the time to get to safety. Doug stumbled onto the ground, his abdomen exploding in pain. He dragged himself against the wall, each movement increasing the daggering pain. He examined his injury. He was hit in the stomach, the pain coursing throughout his body.

Molly darted her eyes through the room, searching for a pistol, but then spotted that woman and her kid on the staircase. What were their names? Lori and Carl, maybe? They were vulnerable, a gunshot striking the floor a few inches away from their feet. Molly held her breath, the adrenaline dimming the world around her, and sprinted towards them. She stood in front of them, protecting them from any bullets that could arrive. "Go up! Go up!"

Lori and Carl continued up the stairs, which put everyone back on march towards the attic. They kept their heads shrunk between their shoulders like turtles hiding in their carapaces. Hershel and Billy watched from the second floor the horror scene happening below. Molly let out an exhale, before a sudden howl escaped her mouth and her shoulder burst in flames. She dived onto the ground once more and looked at her shoulder. A bullet had went clean through, her coat soaking with a crimson blood. She wrapped her hand around her wound, but the blood quickly leaked between her fingers.

Jimmy remained coiled, shutting his eyes with such a force that it nearly hurt him. _I can't stay here. _He made an effort to open an eye. Beth was squeezing herself against the corner, the bullets not too distant from her. He clambered towards her and opened his mouth, his words muffled by the gunfire. "Get down! You're too out in the open!"

He crouched up and slid an arm around her neck. He tugged her to the ground, but before he could sprawl once more, a sharp pain penetrated his chest. He was smashed against the floor, his whole body went sore, as if something within him had fractured. He moved his head with difficulty, his neck stiff. The side of his chest was stained with blood, between his ribs. Breathing became harder, as if the air escaped his mouth involuntarily. Blood strewed from his lips, suffocating him and bathing him in his own blood. Beth yelled his name and grasped him in her arms, the tears flowing from her tear ducts. Hershel and Billy had their jaws hanging loose while the others rushed to the attic behind them. Jimmy's eyes flicked back and forth, until they rolled back in his orbits, his life slipping away from him as the pool of blood beneath him grew larger. He gripped her wrist, his eyes pleading for forgiveness, before he went limp and his head slumped to the side.

Maggie and Dale initiated their suppressing fire. The intensity of the enemy salvo diminished, the rhythm of the bullets they received slowing down. Glenn lifted his handgun and fired back, but the still-present gunfire forced him to lower his hand once more. Glenn turned his head. Within twenty seconds all of that had happened, and yet he failed to notice something essential. Doug was laying on the ground, bleeding to death. He felt the urge to save him, but like in every firefight he partook in, fear built an invisible wall around him. _No, it can't be like last time_. He couldn't just glue his back to cover and cower in dread. Especially not when someone else's life was on the line. He dashed across the room. The scudding projectiles scratched his calf and tore away his baseball cap, but otherwise he was still living. He slid across the pavement once he reached Doug.

"C'mon, take my arm!"

Glenn hauled him up. Doug croaked, the agony nauseating him and his jacket drenched with thick blood. He was pale as a ghost and his legs soft. Glenn glimpsed past his shoulder, wondering if his absence from the firing line would weaken their defense. But it didn't matter. He led Doug up the stairs, directing himself towards the attic.

The assaulters' fire ceased. _They must be reloading, _Andrea thought. However Maggie and Dale still had full cartridges, and hailed the bullets on them nonstop, which kept the enemy holed up like rabbits sheltered in their burrows. They had to affirm their forces, now. "Everybody, fire!" Andrea shouted.

She got up and lined up her rifle. One of the bastards covered by a car carcass had a piece of his head sticking out. With her grip firm, she squeezed the trigger. The rifle roared and his head jerked back, his brains sprinkling the sidewalk. Chuck and T-Dog leapt onto their feet and fired back their rifles, while Molly jogged across the room to fetch a pistol from the duffel bag and joined the firing line. Travis kneeled next to Beth, the artillery barking behind them, setting his hand on her back.

"I'm sorry. But he's gone." Travis said.

Beth nodded and sniffled, wiping her eyes. Billy and Hershel came storming down the stairs. "C'mon, darling, we have to go."

"Listen to him." Travis said. Hershel glanced at him, whatever emotion he had in his eyes was difficult to decrypt, and the teenager nodded with reassurance.

Hershel escorted his sobbing daughter upstairs in a rush along with Billy. She exchanged a glance with Travis, before she vanished. He hurtled once more to the battle, surprised to see that there were only five of them left down there, and resumed firing. They had killed one, the others skulking behind cover and not daring to run away.

"Goddammit! We gotta go!" Don shouted. "There's a huge fucking herd heading this way! I don't know where they came from! But they're fucking thousands!"

Andrea let go of the trigger, as did her friends, those words bouncing around in their minds. The bowmen sprinted away. Maggie and Dale shot towards them, but failed each hit at the moving targets. But after they were gone, and the fighting zone became silent once more, the gargantuan choir of growls invaded the streets like a war chant. The walkers came into view, appearing in every street, all of them merging towards the mansion. A lurker popped up at the window, sending Andrea falling on her derriere.

"Everybody! Upstairs!" T-Dog yelled.

Molly lent her hand at Andrea. "C'mon, we gotta haul ass."

Andrea grabbed her hand and hoisted herself up. "Good riddance."

The walkers had already reached the mansion, a myriad of them crossing the windowsill by bending over it and skidding inside. Andrea, Molly, Travis and Chuck barreled towards the stairs, T-Dog finishing some of the walkers off with bullets to the head. Chuck stopped for a moment, catching something important out of the corner of his eye. His guitar. He lobbed the instrument onto his back, and rushed upstairs. T-Dog jogged towards the stairwell, but the swarm burst through the front doors, barring his path to the stairs. The convoy on the stairs halted, looking at him with widened gazed. T-Dog waved his arm. "Just go! I'll be fine!"

Andrea, Travis and Molly nodded, knowing that helping him was out of their reach and they could only hope for the best. Chuck grinded his teeth, petrified on the spot, not bearing to leave a man behind. But the walkers were also clawing their way up the stairs. He whipped out his Beretta and aimed at the walkers approaching T-Dog. He fired and saw them dropping like flies. T-Dog tapped his left leg, his brain racing to find a solution. He checked his magazine. Three bullets. Not enough. An idea struck him – he would hide in the shed until the walkers went away. The thought of being split from the group and left behind sent shivers down his spine, but it was the only solution. He ran to the backyard.

Chuck was yanked down the stairs, a hand rigid by rigor mortis grasping his ankle. He fell on top of his arms, his pistol firing a loose shot and flying from his hand. He groaned, the gunshot deafening him with a ringing noise that shattered his ears. He looked down, the dizziness receding. A walker with no legs latched onto him, crawling towards him.

Maggie and Dale exited the bedroom, turning to Andrea. "Andrea, where's Glenn?!"

"I think we already went upstairs!" Travis said.

Andrea and Dale hugged each other tight. "Good job, girl."

"Not so shabby on the shooting, old man." Andrea smiled.

Carol approached Andrea, with Sophia glued to the back of her legs. "Where's T-Dog?! Chuck?! There were more of you!"

"T-Dog got cornered by them." Andrea said, lowering her gaze. "And Chuck, he's just behind-"

She revolved her head, only to see a complete absence of the friendly hobo. "What the-?!"

Chuck shook his leg, but the asshole didn't give up. The zombies were toppling their way up the stairs, some of them fondling his leg with their broken fingernails. His time had come. Well, he'd live a good life. _God help these people._ "Our father which art in heaven-"

The legless walker hooking him down was rattled by a bullet that drilled its shoulder, which had no effect and didn't budge its determination to dig its teeth into a human. Chuck looked up. Sophia was behind the railing, a handgun trembling in her hands and an expression of terror in her face. Carol appeared next to her and snatched her gun, taking a second to aim and press the trigger. The bullet landed on the temple of the walker. The grip on his ankle became pliable and he pulled back his leg, scurrying up with his heart racing.

"Your aim will get better." Carol said, patting her daughter's back.

"Quite obliged, ma'am." Chuck said.

Carol, Sophia, Chuck and Maggie hurried to the refuge. Travis stood next to the attic stairs. "Guys, c'mon!"

"What about Harlan?" Molly said.

"Shit. Molly, I'm gonna go fetch him, warn me if the walkers get on this floor!" Andrea said.

Andrea ran into the cell room. She didn't expect to see the man so beat up, but at the time she didn't have the time to care. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Shut up, you're coming with me. And I'm not cutting you from the chair, so you're just gonna have to walk however you can."

Andrea wrenched him onto his feet. Harlan took baby steps, the chair shackled to his spine restraining his movement. He led him along the path, until they turned around the corner in the T-shaped hallway. Molly gestured her arm towards the attic. "We gotta go!"

Molly paced up the ladder. Harlan shoved Andrea, hurling her to the ground. She set her palm on the floor, preventing her to collapse and remain standing. She sprang around, but he ran back into the cell room and shut the door with a kick. Andrea turned her head around. The walkers had occupied the lower level, and they were reaching the upper floor through the stairs. She wouldn't have the time to retrieve Harlan without the walkers getting to them first. She banged her fist against the wall, before rushing into the attic. "Dammit!"

* * *

T-Dog stepped into the backyard. The walkers were scratching the fence, their arms slithering amongst the bars. He glanced past his shoulder. The horde that razed the mansion was chasing after him. He closed the backdoor. He took a deep breath. At least there he was safe. Then, the shriek of rusty metal echoed through the air, and he jerked his head to his right. A zombie wearing a Save-Lots vest shoved the gate open, a gang of undead freaks following in its steps. He rushed towards the shed, flinging the door open and falling onto his knees once he entered it, then shut the door with a kick.

He closed his eyes, seeing white flashes in the impenetrable darkness of his eyelids. He eased his loud respiration, until it became silent. But he still heard other exhales in the room. His body hair bristled and the silence was shattered by the clink of a pistol hammer being pulled back. He raised his head. He was looking down the barrel of a revolver. And Clive was the one brandishing it, towering above him like a giant. Vernon, Joyce and Boyd stood behind him, the expressions of criminals being caught red-handed drawn on their faces.

"Don't move." Clive said.

T-Dog's jaw dropped. "What the hell…?!"

"Sorry. But we're taking this boat with us." Vernon said.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Those scenes on the hospital rooftop where Lee talked to everyone reflected the hub moments in the game, which were so good but I'm not sure if they translate well into written form. Especially the transitions where Lee goes to talk to each member, which seemed a bit lackluster to me. Hope you guys can give me your opinion. Also, I love the derivation I'm taking with this story, and the mansion falling was one of my favorite scenes to write to date, I would love to hear (or read) what you think of it!**


	53. A Peaceful Offering

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME/SEASON/EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 53 – A PEACEFUL OFFERING**

Rick kneaded his hair, wanting to tear off his scalp. Lee and Carley held their hands together and tightened the grip. Omid, Christa, Kenny and Ben stared into the horrific sight, their jaws hanging and their eyelids drawn open. They left just for a few hours, and now they had returned only to find the remains of what they had razed to nothing. The mansion had fallen. The backyard, the interior and the streets around it were colonized with walkers, roaming around with their arms half-bent and suspended in the air, their teeth battering against each other searching for a prey. The barred windows were caved in and the silhouettes of the dead lurked in the living room, the hall and the kitchen. There was a dust lifting off their footsteps and the scent of gunpowder pairing in the air, like a nauseating perfume.

"No…it can't be…" Rick said, his knees buckling, a tear welling up in his eye. _Lori…Carl._ No, he had to see it for himself. Swallowing down his emotions, he sprang around towards his friends. "Everybody, we have to get in there!"

"I know, but it's full of walkers, we can't just waltz in there!" Christa said.

"They might still be alive. We have to create some sort of distraction to lure them away." Lee said.

"I wouldn't be so hopeful of there being any…" Kenny said. His friends catapulted a glare towards him and he ceased his sentence halfway.

"We'll just fire a few rounds into the air here," Lee said. "Then we'll run around and enter through the shed."

"Seems good enough to me." Rick said.

Rick whipped out his revolver and fired a bullet skyward. The zombies' heads pivoted around, and dragged their feet towards them. Rick rushed to the shed, and his friends followed suit, barely keeping up with the sprinting sheriff. Lee glanced towards the mansion. There was a handful of them trekking after them, but most of them remained spellbound to the mansion, like iron to a magnet. They halted their march, peeped in the direction of the gunshot, then proceeded inside, sliding inside through the windows. There was only one thing that captivated the walkers' attention above all. _Human flesh._ Someone had died and was serving as a full meal for the horde. That was probably why most of the walkers didn't go after the shot. The food was the thing they cared about the most. _God, I just hope most of them are okay._

* * *

The attic was intoxicated with an atmosphere of misery, the downfall of the battle's aftermath. The air was humid and the dust swiveled in the air within the beam of light coming from a squared window. Fragments of the group sat where they could, atop piles of boxes, old furniture, stacks of cushions, sometimes on the creaking floorboards. After traversing a perilous storm of deafening gunfire, the silence was a torture, an evident sign of what they had gone through. With the adrenaline flushing out of their bodies, their repressed emotions came back to them, reminding them that they had just lost everything.

Hershel and Glenn stood next to Doug, who was lying on the couch. Maggie rubbed her boyfriend's shoulders, who seemed taken away from the world he was in, heedless to her touch, his wide stare fixated on the dying man. Doug's skin was as pale as porcelain, the sharp wheezing of his breathing becoming less perceptible, the blood changing the color of his jacket. Hershel relieved a sigh, after putting two fingers pressed against his wrist. "I'm sorry, but he's lost too much blood. At this point, he's not gonna make it."

Glenn nodded. Hershel got up and set his hand on his older daughter's shoulder. "Maggie, come sit with your brother and sister."

"But…"

"He needs his time."

"I'll be fine, Maggie. Don't worry." Glenn said.

Maggie nodded and walked away with her father.

"Anyway…I suppose…it was for the best…" Doug mumbled. His voice was hoarse, almost unintelligible.

"What? What do you mean?" Glenn said.

"I never…really…contributed to the group…I wasn't no gun enthusiast…I was just dead weight…"

Glenn shook his head. "I don't believe that. I'm sure you could've done great things. If only we had more time…if only this hadn't…"

Doug let out a weak chuckle. "Nah…what I said is evident…you're the first person in this group…who I had a true conversation…in a long time…"

Glenn dropped his head. He didn't say anything else. He listened to the slow respiration next to him, that grew quieter until it faded away. Glenn felt a shiver down his spine. He was going to have to do it, otherwise he would come back soon. Raising his head, he saw a piece of paper sticking out of his pocket. He fished it out and unfolded it. It was a map of Savannah and its outskirts, with the location of The Living marked on it. _You did something useful, man._ He put the map in his pocket, took out his knife and positioned the blade above his forehead. He sensed those eyes surrounding him locked on him, but eventually the gazes turned elsewhere. _It's okay. _He wasn't doing anything bad. He was assuring that someone rested in peace instead of roaming the earth as a creature with no control over itself, just a shell of its former self. _It's not killing…it's making sure our own don't turn._

There was a hand that landed on his shoulder. Andrea. "Here, I'll do it."

Glenn nodded, thankful that he didn't have to do the deed. He passed the knife to her. He knew that there was a big difference between euthanasia and killing, but it wasn't the same thing when it was someone he knew. Andrea downed the knife on Doug's forehead, a squishy sound echoing throughout the attic as it pierced his brain. Glenn blinked several times to dry his wet eyeballs, while Andrea got a dusty blanket and covered him with it. Glenn stared at the dead man, contemplating the ghostly contours drawn on the blanket. He sat next to his girlfriend, who wrapped her arm around him tightly. But Glenn still wasn't in this world. His eyes weren't focused on anything in particular, his thoughts blurring out reality. He knew something about the apocalypse. It was that everyone who made it far always had blood on their hands. And it appeared that the clock was ticking closer to the hour he would get some on his hands too.

"Now, what are we going to do?" Molly asked, grasping her scorching shoulder.

Andrea dropped on a pile of boxes, beside Dale. "Let's take some time out, I think we've all earned it. We rest, we wait for the walkers to clear out."

"Really? That's your plan?" Larry said, his voice strong and audible.

Andrea replied in a disheartened tone, showing she had no intentions to argue. "It's the best I can do right now."

Billy touched his cheek. He flinched, the bruise was still sore. God, his dad could be an ass at times. Sure, maybe he shouldn't have tried to steal the boat, but hell, even Rick agreed with it. But after those five hectic minutes, they had lost two people. Life came and go, fast and randomly. Maybe it wasn't the time to be arrogant. It felt like gorging down a block of metal, but he managed to swallow his pride. "Hey, dad? I know I was out of line, okay?"

"It's okay, son." Hershel said, patting his back. "You just wanted what was best for us. But this wasn't the way to do it. And you know I only hit you because I want to educate you."

"Yeah, yeah." Billy said, blushing.

* * *

"Fingers crossed behind your head."

Clive jolted his pistol, reinforcing his order. T-Dog nodded and interlaced his fingers behind his head, a breath escaping his mouth. The small dose of adrenaline weighed him down and he breathed calmly to relieve it. He told himself it wasn't worth being afraid. _These are just scared people, looking for refuge. Just stay calm and don't do anything sudden. _Boyd and Joyce rested against the wall, their eyes glinting at each walker that bumped against the walls or each growl that grew closer. T-Dog felt as if his heart was being pinched. They were elderly, who probably endured so many things in their lives, and instead of retiring peacefully, now they had to stave off in the end of the world. If they took the boat, he wouldn't hold it against them. Hell, he wanted them to. But he didn't want anyone to die.

"Listen, you don't need to aim that gun at me." T-Dog said. "Okay? I'm not gonna hurt you. We don't even want the boat. If you want it, you can take it. It's yours."

"We don't know that. You could just be lying to get the upper hand on us." Clive said.

"Just don't do anything hasty, okay?"

"God, what are we doing?" Joyce said. "What have we become? We're stealing, for Christ's sake."

"Joyce, this is…" Clive said, letting out a long breath. "We have to do it, okay? We deserve it. We've already suffered enough in this city, and this boat is our saving grace."

"Clive's right. Just listen to him." Vernon said.

"But what're we going to do?" Boyd said. "The dead ones are everywhere, and we don't know what's going on."

Vernon rubbed his chin, then turned to T-Dog. "Hmm. What the hell happened out there? We heard some heavy gunfire, then the walkers came."

"It's this other group." T-Dog said. "They attacked us. But for real though, I'm not hostile. You can lower the gun."

"I'm sorry, this is just for safekeeping." Clive said.

T-Dog scanned each of the individuals, searching for revelatory clues about who they were. Clive still carried his wallet. Vernon had a locket tucked into his pocket. Joyce wore a wedding ring. And Boyd had a crucifix around his neck. T-Dog smiled. He was glad someone else besides him believed in the good lord, one of the things that still brought him hope. "You a man of faith?"

Another gunshot echoed outside. Boyd frowned, then looked down at his crucifix. "I am."

"Me too. The Lord works in mysterious ways, doesn't He? It's easy to lose faith in days like these. But what's happening now, it's just what He predicted. A lot of bad things have happened. But how we deal with them, how we discover what truly matters most, that's what defines us. You don't lose faith just because it gets hard."

Clive clenched his fists and his lip twitched. "Hey, that's fucking bullshit! We've lost family, sons, daughters, siblings, friends, don't you say that it—that this, is somehow something good."

"He didn't say that." Boyd said, walking towards his friend and reaching for his gun. "But he's right. Lower the gun, we don't need to do this."

Clive retracted his arm. "Don't-"

The shed doors were pulled open. The sunlight bathed them with a blinding and divine brightness, seven shadows drawing in the light. Rick, Lee, Carley, Kenny, Christa, Omid and Ben Paul stood there, with their eyebrows raised, their puzzled expressions static like photographs taped to their faces. T-Dog held his breath. Vernon yanked the gun from Clive's hand and aimed it at them.

"Stay back." Vernon said. "And Lee, this time won't be like last time, I will shoot."

Rick elevated his arms. "Hey, hey, it's okay, we're not-"

Rick seized the barrel and shoved the pistol to the side, and with his other hand he uppercut the man. Joyce squelched with a high-pitched voice, while Clive and Boyd hopped back until their backs touched the wall. Vernon's revolver flew across the room and vanished into a dark corner. Rick did his takedown in half a second, and everyone had to take a few moments to process what happened. Rick took out his revolver and towered above Vernon, the pistol looking down at him. Vernon rolled around on the floor, his hand clouting his mouth. "You shouldn't have messed with us!"

"Whoa, whoa, stop!" T-Dog said, getting on his feet and rushing to his side. "Aim that gun away!"

"They held you at gunpoint and tried to rob us!"

"They're just elderly, man. Killing them is weak!"

Rick twitched his neck, tapping his fingers against the pistol's handle, before backing off. Kenny stormed around the boat. "You fucking bastards! We should just toss you out on the street for the walkers!"

"Hey, that's a bit extreme, no?" Lee said.

Boyd lowered his head, his arms crossed. Clive helped Vernon get up, then distanced themselves. Vernon spat blood on the ground. The elderly stood in the corner, staring at them, shaking. Rick paced around the room. "What the hell are we gonna do with you?"

"I know what we are going to do." T-Dog said. "These people, they were just desperate. Out in this world? They won't make it. And I think they deserve some safety. We don't throw them out there. We bring them into the fold. Otherwise, we might just execute them ourselves."

He turned towards them. "The boat is yours."

Rick and Kenny opened their mouths, their angry rants dangling off of the tip of their tongue, but Lee cut them off quickly. "T-Dog's right. We can't let this change us. You guys can take the boat. Make sure you go far enough where the walkers won't find you."

"Are you guys…serious?" Clive asked.

"We sure are." T-Dog said with a simper. "I suggest you guys wait in here until the walkers thin out. Afterwards, put the boat on water and find someplace safe."

Rick released a snort. He had more pressing matters, and his family was more important to him than bickering. "Whatever. Hurry your asses, we've got to go find our group."

Lee and Vernon locked gazes, spitting disdainful waves at each other. Boyd smiled at T-Dog and Joyce gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Thank you. You're a good man."

"Hey, man." Clive said. "Sorry about being a dick earlier."

"It's okay." T-Dog nodded.

Rick, Lee, Carley, Kenny, Omid, Christa, Ben Paul and T-Dog stood by the doors that led to the backyard. The moaning was muffled by the walls but they were ready to greet them with open arms and open mouths. Christa and Omid smirked at T-Dog. "Seriously, dude, what you did was way cool." Omid said.

"Never thought I'd see something like again." Christa smiled.

"Only did what was right." T-Dog said.

"Keep carrying the fire, brother." Lee said.

"Dammit, we got no time for this! You guys have ammo?" Rick said.

In unison, like they were performing a synchronized choreography, they unsheathed their handguns and checked the clips.

"Ten." Carley said.

"Five." Lee said.

"Two." Ben said.

"Three." Kenny said.

"Four." Omid said.

"Three too." Christa said.

"Three as well." T-Dog said.

"Six and a reload." Rick said. "Alright, people. We're gonna clear a path and check every room until we find them. Maintain a circle formation and take down any walkers who steps too close. But save your bullets, otherwise we won't get far. Kick or shove them down, anything, but don't run out of bullets."

Rick set his hand on the handle, counting down three, two, one with his fingers. He pushed the doors. The backyard was dense with lurkers, no opening was available for them. They formed a taut circle. Rick kicked down the first walker that approached them, flattening its head with stomp, a red liquid squishing onto his boot like a crushed watermelon. They advanced in baby steps, fighting with punches and kicks whenever a slow zombie closed in. Ben shrieked in a high pitch when a lurker nuzzled near him, and he squeezed the trigger in an instinct, blasting the walker's neurons onto the green grass.

They hurtled into the mansion. Ben slammed the door shut, leaning on his knees and panting. Omid twisted his lips and flailed his hands in the air, looking down at his hoodie. Their garments were soaked with crusty, dark blood and some of it specked their faces. "God…" Omid muttered.

"We're not finished!" Rick said.

Omid lifted his head. The walkers were abundant in the mansion, often walking into each other and pushing each other aside. They were in every room, and had also reached the second floor. "Jesus, it almost looks like a zombie party in here."

Rick picked up the cleaver from the kitchen counter. He took the lead in the convoy and hacked at the zombie skulls that got in his way, while his friends lagged behind them and covered him and made sure their rear wasn't unprotected. The corpses tumbled around them and they tiptoed over them with caution. One leg trip, and it could cost everyone their lives. Rick's arm got tired and soft rapidly, but the need to see his family again powered his slashes. When they were in the living room, Lee halted in front of a aggregation of walkers. They were on their knees, tightly pressed against each other and squeezing to reach into the middle, shoving hunks of meat into their mouth like they were at a buffet. Lee kicked one of the lurkers aside. It was a person. He was hard to recognize – its stomach had been eaten out, showing the vertebral spine and the blood was splattered on its face – but it was Jimmy. He sighed, and returned to his friends.

The walkers started to overwhelm them and everyone resorted to their firearms to keep them away. The gunshots bounced off the walls and made their ears ring. Ben gulped down. His pistol just clicked. "I'm out!"

Rick led his friends up the stairs, throwing the walkers over the railing. Lee admired his force, he was a killing machine and there was no stopping him. "Lori! Carl!"

"Travis?!" Ben shouted.

"Molly?!" Lee screamed.

The second floor was infested by them as well. The humans barely had any space to move around due to their density. Then, at the end of the alcove in the hallway, amongst the horde, the attic stairs distended and touched the ground. Andrea came down and shoved away a couple of walkers with her rifle. Lee and his troop twirled their heads towards her.

"Guys! Over here!" Andrea shouted.

Rick fired a spree of bullets, taking down six zombies each and creating a straight path to the stairs. They sprinted across the hallway, hopping over the fallen cadavers like they were hurdles and brushing off the dead fingers that caressed their shoulders. Lee let everyone climb first, before going up himself. He was halfway up the stairs, when his Glock slipped from his belt. He couldn't go back for it. He entered the attic and lugged up the stairs, lowering the volume of the moaning.

Rick, Lori and Carl locked gazes on each other and ran towards each other. They grasped each other in a hug, a cold sweat of relief running down Rick's body. "Thank God."

Travis stood up and headed towards Ben. "Hey, Benny Paul, good to see you."

"Yeah, you too." Ben said.

Molly jogged towards the African-American man. "Lee!"

The two exchanged a hug. Carley let a hiss slip through her teeth. Dammit, she couldn't keep it within her. "Hey, paws off him."

Molly distanced herself from Lee and glared at her. "Hey, what's your goddamned problem?"

"My problem is…!"

"Stop!" Lee said. "You're being ridiculous, okay? Don't you think we've got more important things on our plate right now?"

The two women stayed quiet, knowing he was right, simply spitting at each other with narrowed glares. Lee searched the room for anyone else missing. There was someone on the couch, hidden by a white blanket dripped with blood. "God, who…?"

"Doug." Andrea said.

"Wait, where the fuck's Harlan?" Rick asked, letting go of his family and turning to Andrea.

"Sorry, Rick, but—but we couldn't get him, he—he must've managed to escape." Andrea said.

"What?! Goddammit! Fuck! Great, just great. You know what this means, right?"

"Now we're deep to our necks in shit, our boat's gone, we've got two of our captive and God knows what happens to them!" Kenny said.

Andrea hunkered her head, scratching her head. Dale narrowed his brows. "Hey, it wasn't her fault!"

"Hey, it could've been worse." Travis said in a monotone voice.

"This is getting out of hand, we should all chill!" Ben said.

Kenny tightened his fists until they were white. "Ben, I swear to God…where the hell do you get off?!"

"I'm just saying we should all chill! Not just you."

"Chill?! Lee's bitten and God knows what'll happen to him, Clementine is, who the fuck knows, and we're robbed of every hope we had left!"

"So?"

"So we should've left your ass back at the farm." Kenny said. Ben withdrew his head, his mouth gaping open. "We got enough problems."

Ben's expression shifted as he stiffened his gaze and his upper lip twitched. An expression of anger they had never seen before. "Fuck you, Kenny!"

The walls shook after he vociferated and the ambiance shifted, everyone hooked to the scene that was unfolding. Kenny relented for a second, his eyebrows softening, but he quickly went back to his furious sneer. Travis stepped forward, not believing his friend was making a stand. But he was bound to fuck himself up. "Careful, gu-"

Christa put a hand in front of him. "No, let him."

"I am so, so, so sorry about Katjaa and Duck, I am! And I know I fucked up, but stop pushing me around and stop wishing I was dead!"

Kenny was consumed by anger and opened his mouth, but the teenager interjected him. "No! You know how they died! You've said goodbye! I never got to see my family, my parents, my little sister…do you get that?" Ben said, his tone oscillating between outraged and a whimper. "Your family is gone, but at least you've had them to lose. I never made it home. They could be alive or dead or walkers or worst and I don't know! So give me a fucking break!"

Kenny stared at the teen, his visage mellowed, his rage thawing out. A breath escaped his lips. "Oh, Ben, I'm—I'm so sorry…"

The attic dawned into silence. Travis leaned near Ben. "Damn, Ben, you really showed him who's boss."

Ben let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. "Shut up, Travis."

"Whoa, take it easy, man."

The two teenagers walked away. Kenny hid his face with his palm, dwelling on his words.

"So, how we getting out of here?" Chuck asked.

"Well, we're not getting out through this window." Maggie said, pointing her thumb towards the window. "No latches, no roof access and thirty feet straight down."

"Anyone got any ideas?" Carley asked.

"I bet this guy would."

They followed Omid's look towards a bust of a man located on top of a pedestal. He was a man with a large moustache and long sideburns. "He's got a resourceful air about him."

"Knock it off." Christa said.

"Dixon Kent the III, industrial-"

"Omid!"

"Christa!" Omid said. "I'm just trying to lighten the fucking tone."

"We need solutions, not stupid jokes!" Christa suddenly snapped at her boyfriend. She took a deep breath, before resuming. "I'm sorry."

"I ain't seeing any access to the exterior here." Molly said. "We'll just wait for them to clear out, then we get to Clementine."

"So this is our fucking plan? Search for a little girl?" Larry asked.

"Yeah, it is Larry, and before you start objecting, let me tell you, you're just gonna have to deal with it." Lee said.

"Hey, I wasn't gonna object. I'm not a monster who leaves little girls in the hands of kidnappers. But I wonder how searching for my daughter fits into your plan."

Lee and Rick exchanged a glance. Glenn stood up, making at gesture towards his girlfriend that he would be back soon, and took out the map he had on his pocket. "Here, Rick. Doug had it on him. It's a map with Harlan's location marked on it."

Rick examined the map. Glenn joined once more his newfound family. Rick's eyes glowed. "This. This! This is just what we needed! It—It says here they're located about ten miles beyond Savannah. We'll get Clementine, after that we'll find their camp and bring back Daryl and Lilly."

"You better keep your word." Larry said.

"We…will…" Lee said.

Lee coughed and wiped his forehead. Damn, he was burning up and his throat was dry, his forehead sweating. Carley turned to him, putting the back of her hand on his forehead. "Hey…You're burning up. You should go see Hershel."

"Nah, I'm good."

His walkie-talkie sizzled. "_Lee? Lee? Lee? I'm okay, I'm where my parents are—no…!_"

Lee grabbed the walkie-talkie, but he knew she must have been caught. Andrea folded her arms. "What does that mean?"

"She's at the hotel where her parents were staying. He hasn't moved her." Lee said.

Rick looked at Lee's stump. He wasn't looking good. He wanted to believe that his friend was going to make it, but it wasn't the time to get delusional. He had to be realistic. He had to have a plan if something happened. "Hon, I have to take care of something."

Carl didn't budge at his sentence. Lori shrugged. "Like always, huh? Always away from his family doing something else."

Rick pretended he didn't hear her phrase, albeit it resounded in his head and haunted him to the core. "I think we need to start to think more than just Clementine about our urgency."

"What do you mean?" Carley asked.

"How do we get out of here?"

"Well, we wait." Omid said.

"Yeah, but now your life depends on it. How do we get out of here?" Rick said.

"We wait! I don't get it."

Christa turned to Lee. "I do."

"Do you think that worked?" Rick asked, pointing towards his stump.

"I…I don't know. I hope so." Lee said.

"Of course it did! He's fine so far!" Carley said.

"You're biased, Carley, your opinion isn't worth a whole lot." Rick said, receiving a dirty look from her.

"It doesn't mean her opinion is invalid in any matter." Lee said.

"I think we need to have…an adult conversation about what happens if Lee takes another spill." Rick said.

"Hey, look…" Andrea said.

"We could be looking at a precarious situation here. Lee, I'm not advocating anything here. But how is this not a thing? We're getting all worked up about Clementine and we're forgetting what the fuck happened to you."

"My arm is not the issue!" Lee shouted. "The five hundred walkers in the house and no door in this room are the goddamn problem!"

"Yeah, maybe at the moment." Rick said, both of their voices rising. "But who's to say when it becomes an issue? And at that point, there may not be any time left to deal with it!"

"This is getting out of hand!" Carley said.

Rick marched towards Lee, until their noses were just a few inches away from one another. "You're gonna listen to me! We will get Clementine back, with or without you! Because I haven't given up everything to die because we were stupid!"

"I'm sorry, okay! Fuck! We can't do this!"

"We might have to!"

Lee felt the fury control his arm. He grasped the bust of the entrepreneur, and lifted it in the air. Rick flinched, and Lee threw the bust. The statue struck the wall with a loud crack, bashing in the wood boards with a dehisced hole. "You ruined that dude's face." Omid said.

"Shut up, sweetie. Look." Christa said.

Rick kneeled in front of the hole. The interior wooden structure was showing, along with several cables and tubes. Rick grabbed a piece of the wood inside the hole and yanked it out with ease. "It's corroded to hell."

"What's on the other side of this wall, a thirty foot drop?" Molly said.

"No, this mansion butts up against the one next door." Omid said.

"I'll be damned." Kenny said.

"We're not lifers on Alcatraz here, we can't spend the next three months digging through a wall." Christa said.

Lee saw a coat hanger next to him. He hefted it and clobbered the wall. The hole was enlarged. "This wall ain't shit."

"Is this really possible?" Omid said.

Kenny took the hanger and kept striking it. The hole kept caving in further. He smiled. "Yeah, we can do this."

"Okay, sounds good." Rick said.

"We'll work in shifts. Omid, Christa and I. Lee, you rest. We have to work fast."

Lee turned to Rick. "I wasn't gonna hurt you, you know."

"Sure, pal. I know." Rick nodded.

Rick returned to his family. Lee and Carley sat on an old TV, while Omid and Christa sat on a second couch across them. Molly joined them, sitting on a large cardbox. The thumps of the hanger hitting the wall echoed in the background.

"I'm glad you told us when you got bit, it would've been easy not to." Christa said.

"Yeah, well…" Lee said.

"We probably would've let you go alone if you hadn't told us. Which would've been a mistake."

"If I were you I'd be scared shitless." Omid said.

"I am." Lee said.

"And when it happened?"

"I panicked. But now…I just feel it inside me. Like the day before you get the flu."

"That's horrible."

"It's so weird." Christa said. "I keep taking a double-take on your arm, expecting it to be there."

"I hope whatever's in their bite is gone too." Lee said.

"What do you think the odds are of that?"

"I don't know. I know everyone's wondering. Even if it just slows down the progress, I'd be happy."

"You don't mean that." Carley said.

"So when we get this guy…what do you think?" Omid asked.

"We make sure he never takes anybody from anyone again." Lee said.

"Did your crew get into some shit before you met up with us?"

"Is it possible to have survived and not have gotten into some shit?"

"And…you know…whatever happens to you…uh…"

"Seriously, can we not talk like that?" Carley said. "The entire time you were at the hospital I could sense you think you were as good as dead."

"I was bitten, Carley." Lee said.

"You cut it off."

"What good is it to plan around that working?"

"What good is it for you to give up?"

Kenny set down the hanger and came up to them. "Alright, I'm all outta gas." He turned to Omid. "You seem good and rested."

"Sure, if you don't count an infected leg." Omid said.

"You want me to do it?" Christa asked.

"Nah, hon, you can hop in after me."

Omid departed to continue their mission while Kenny sat on his place. The thumping resumed. "Shouldn't be long now. It's good we're forced to take a breath."

Lee glanced at Molly, who didn't speak a word and seemed to be mentally traveling elsewhere. Then, the pain in his stump sharpened all of a sudden. He winced and slid his finger around his stump.

"That, uh, feeling any better?" Kenny asked.

"What do you think?" Carley said, rolling her eyes.

"Still feels pretty recently chopped. So, no, Kenny. It feels about as good as you'd expect." Lee said.

"I mean, do you think it worked? Did—did it help at all?" Kenny said.

"I feel like a man who got bit. So take that for what it's worth."

"I still believe you went and got chomped. Just…fucking hell."

"At least he told us." Christa said.

"Took some brass." Kenny said. "I don't think I would've."

Kenny bended over and rubbed his temples,, his cap hiding his face.

"How are you?" Christa asked.

"I'm…I don't know how to answer that." Kenny said.

"It'll be alright, Ken."

Kenny let out a breath. "Why you actin' like what's happened ain't happened? Anyway, I appreciate it, from both of you. We've all lost families."

Kenny's eyes flicked around the room, landing on Ben. "Maybe take it easy on him from here on out." Lee said.

"I'm angry as hell." Kenny muttered between teeth.

"Not at him."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"You heard him."

"I did. I never really thought about it that way."

Kenny bent over the sofa, inspecting an open cardbox. He saw pillows and a bottle of whiskey inside. Simpering, he fished it out and popped off the lid. As if he had lit a flame for moths, Chuck appeared, eyes fixated on the booze. "Hey, got room for one more?"

"Sure, take the first sip." Kenny said, lending him the bottle. Chuck sat on the ground and took a long sip, before passing it back to Kenny. "This guy tell you much about what we've been through?"

"Bits and pieces." Christa said.

"Hell, we've dealt with all kinds of psychos and lost so many people. We told ourselves we shouldn't mess with any strangers. They only bring trouble. But trouble finds us, I guess."

"But we're strangers."

"I guess there's exceptions to every rule."

He stretched his arm towards Lee. Lee drank a sip. "At least in my boxcar I never had any trouble with people. This is, 'til you folks came along." Chuck said.

"Hey, sorry if we took your home." Lee said.

"Nah, don't plague yourself over it. Got awful lonely some nights."

Lee lent the bottle to Molly. She shook her head. He lent it to Carley. She hesitated for a few seconds, before taking it. "Fuck it."

She sipped the alcohol, then gave it back to Chuck.

"We sure could use one of your melodies now, Chuck." Christa said.

Chuck grinned, before showing them his guitar that was previously slung on his back. The cords were all sprung loose and there were three holes in it. "Apologies, but I don't think we'll have any more musical evenings from now on."

"Hell, maybe we'll find some music store once we get out of Savannah. Those probably aren't ransacked."

"Hey, here's to hopin'." Chuck said, finalizing with another chug.

He passed to Kenny, who took a quick sip and lent it to Christa. She was reluctant, staring at her stomach , before jerking the bottle from him and taking a rapid chug, as if she had to do it quickly otherwise she wouldn't convince herself to do it. Kenny frowned, his eyes rolling back and forth between her stomach and the bottle. His jaw dropped as she passed him back the bottle. He slumped back on the couch, an uneasiness lurking around him.

"I'm through!" Omid said, getting everyone up on their feet. "No walkers. Things are looking up."

"Alright, everybody, let's go!" Andrea said.

"Actually, I have something different in mind." Lee said. "If I'm going to retrieve Clementine, I can't take too many of you since I'll have to be fast. Rick, you should stay here."

"What? Why?" Rick asked.

"I'd prefer if you looked after the group. I'll bring Carley, Omid, Christa and Kenny."

"I want to go too." Molly said. "You know I'm quick and good with walkers."

"Okay, but we have to be fast and stay together. The rest of you, you should stay in here and wait for the walkers to clear out. We need to get out of Savannah as soon as possible, so meet us by the train, where we came from."

"Got you." Rick said, exchanging a firm handshake with him. "Come back alive."

"You know that might not happen." Lee said.

"I know."

"Want me to come? I could help." Ben said.

"Thanks, kid, but you were already a big help. I really don't want anyone to be risking their life for me more than they have to." Lee said.

Lee eyed his fellow friends while his crew crouched through the hole, hopping into next house like it was a portal to another world. Lee followed after them, wondering if he would see those faces ever again.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: I'm glad I finally got a chance to put T-Dog on the spotlight a little bit. The TV Show always showed him as a benevolent and faithful man, but he was just kind of pushed to the side and his kindness and development were rarely seen. Also, this way I think the cancer survivors had a good send off, and brought a rare glimpse of positivity into the story (admit it, The Walking Dead is pretty much gloom and doom). I did an extra effort on the proofreading this time around, so I hope this is the first typo-free chapter I upload.**

**Also, I know I've been in a regular uploading rhythm lately, uploading a chapter per week, but I won't be able to write during the first week of April, so that might delay the uploads a bit.**


	54. Farewell

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 54 – FAREWELL**

The bedroom had a quaint vibe emanating from it – wooden bedframe, beige walls, ancient paintings, vintage wardrobes and chests of drawers – only to be contradicted by a large plasma TV hung on the wall. At the end of the room, there was a door with glass windows, leading into an iron balcony. On a king-size bed laid a dead couple, two holes perforated in their temples and a Beretta stuck between the deceased man's fingers. Their skin was darkened by decay, the blood on their bodies solidified to crusts and the flies hovered above them. Lee guessed they must have offed themselves in the beginning, perhaps.

"This place seems sealed off. Well…" Christa said.

They stared at the dead couple, a brief glimpse of sadness flickering in their expressions. Christa and Omid braided their hands together, pulling each other closer. They were somewhat reflective of them, the man wore a similar hoodie as him and the girl had dark hair tied in a bun like her. Lee and Carley switched a glanced between them.

"God…" Kenny mumbled.

"How could they do this…" Carley said, her stomach wrung.

"Let's keep moving. We gotta go." Lee said.

"Yeah. We've seen so many people…I don't know why these ones break my heart." Christa said.

"What's heartbreakin' is not giving yourself a chance." Kenny said. "It's what Katjaa did."

"You did everything you could." Lee said.

Kenny shook his head. "No, Lee. She left me…my son…people that cared about us…I forgive her, but it don't make it any less wrong. You don't just end it 'cause it's hard. You stick it out, and you help the folks you care about."

Lee felt surprised at the man's reasonable words. Kenny raised his head, donning a half-smile. "So let's figure out a way to get outta here and get that little girl."

Christa nodded. "We should move."

"Yeah." Molly said.

Kenny took the pistol from the corpse's stiff, cold hand and checked the clip. "Got at least one shot left."

"Let's clear the room before we move on. Lee, figure out where we're headed." Christa said.

"Think anything useful might be in this old man's house? We don't need dentures or Viagra." Molly grinned.

"She's sort of right." Omid said. "From the décor of this room, it looks like they were PBS watchers."

"Hey, my parents' house looked a lot like this and they watched kung fu movies." Christa said.

Omid nodded with a smile from ear to ear. He had finally reached her comedic side. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Just saying."

"We oughta look anyway." Kenny said. "We don't have jack shit. Plus, they might have an extra clip for this gun somewhere around here."

Molly, Christa, Omid, Carley and Kenny spread throughout the room, combing inside furniture or looking under it for anything useful. Then, Lee felt something inside him, growing and growing towards a gargantuan mighty feeling of greatness. There was something he felt like…no! Something he needed to say. With great power comes great responsibility. And he had to execute his responsibility. He cleared his throat, before whispering something to himself. "Randy Tudor. Good man. Damn fine man. Powerful stache. One of the greats."

"What are you yammerin' about?" Molly asked.

Lee blinked, snapping out of his trance. "Uh, nothing. Sorry, zoned out for a moment."

Lee wondered what the hell happened for a second, reaching no logical conclusion. _Whatever, I have more important things to deal with. _He approached his girlfriend. "Are you okay? I know this must be hard for you."

"I'm doing my best, Lee. But I just can't help thinking about what might happen to you." Carley said, flicking her eyes over his stump. "Plus, with everything that's happened…you know, Doug? He wasn't such a dork as he made it seem to be. In the beginning, he actually saved me from a couple of walkers."

"He saved you?"

"Yeah. But…he's gone now, I guess."

Molly appeared next to them, her fist leaned against her hip. "Finished looking around. Nothing."

"Yeah, nothing other than personal items in here." Christa said.

Lee opened the balcony door, the group huddling behind him. The façade of the next building wasn't too far off, the rooftop a bit higher, just slightly out of their reach.

"Looks like we can stay off the streets all the way to River Street if we're careful." Kenny said.

"Are we really gonna go roof-hopping again?" Carley asked, folding her arms.

"It's the best way to stay safe from the walkers, Car." Lee said.

"I'll go first." Molly said.

She passed her legs over the railing and took out her pickaxe. She leapt upwards, hooking her blade on the ledge. She steadied herself by thrusting her feet against the building front, then hoisted herself up. She turned to the others, who gawked at her with raised chins. "Need my pickaxe?"

"We're not all roof-jumping athletes, you know!"Lee said.

* * *

Lee and Christa pulled Omid after his jump, which left him dangling from the ledge. He got up and wiped the dust from his hoodie. Lee counted all those who had crossed – Molly, Kenny, Omid and Christa. He turned to Carley. "C'mon, it's just you."

"God, can't believe I'm doing this again." She muttered.

"You can do it." Lee said.

Carley climbed onto the railing. She stared down at the profound crevasse, a tight alleyway filled with trash. She bent her knees, the anticipation keeping them tense. Her eyes were locked on Lee's, who smiled at her and reassured her with a nod. She smirked back, the gained confidence alleviating the fear. She did a countdown in her head, to three.

_One. Two._

The hinges shrieked and sprang loose from the bolts keeping them latched to the apartment. The platform vanished from below her feet and she was tugged away by gravity along with the balcony, heading straight towards the concrete. Her screams resounded in the air. Lee's heart came to a halt. They doubled over the edge, looking down. Her screams had stopped.

She was laying on the pavement, hidden by trash bags, no expression in her face and no body movement.

Lee darted his eyes throughout the rooftop, his heart beating so fast that it deafened him. There was a ladder nearby, leading into the alley. He rushed down it, not hearing his friends' words behind him. He hopped two steps at the time, barely keeping his balance, and jumped off once he reached the final steps. He sprinted around the corner. Carley was there. He hurtled towards her and crouched next to her. Her eyes were moving. Lee let out a breath. _She's alive. _Lee flicked his gaze over her body, inspecting for wounds, his hands trembling. "Jesus, Carley, are—are you al—alright?!"

Carley groaned, her lips quavering. "Oww…! Uh…I'm okay…I'm okay, Lee, don't worry…"

"Goddammit, are—are you sure?"

She moved her legs a few inches. "My legs are still good…I don't think I'm too bad…God, my back…it's really sore though…"

There were footsteps splashing in the puddles behind him. Carley drooped her head to the side. Kenny appeared behind Lee, his eyebrows crumpled, looking towards the two ends of the narrow passageway. There were handfuls of walkers lollygagging in the street, evermore caught in their aimless roaming trance. But Kenny knew that wouldn't be true if she made too much noise. "You gotta keep it down! Otherwise those walkers will be on top of us!"

Carley smiled at Lee as the two stared at each other. Carley caressed his hand. "I'm fine…this could've been worse…just get all this debris off of me…"

Lee exhaled deeply, not avoiding a simper. She was alright, and the weight that encumbered him for the last minute left his body. He was just going to get her up on her feet and tend to her bruises, and everything would be fine. Kenny stood near him, keeping a lookout for any walkers that noticed them. Lee pushed the trash bags aside, one by one, averting the clank of broken bottles and crunches of plastic bags. He wiped his hands against one another, after she was uncovered. "Alright, now let's-"

He turned to his lover. The air was vacuumed from his lungs, his breathing stopping. His blood ran cold, crystallizing him to ice. An iron bar from the balcony impaled her through the midsection, the crimson blood dripping from the rod and her purple coat. The distant growls from the walkers vanished, that bloodied rod the only thing occupying his field of vision. Kenny opened his mouth, wondering why the hell he wasn't getting her up, but swallowed back his words once he laid eyes on the woman's injury. Carley looked at them with a doubtful frown, her eyeballs glimmering. "What is it…? I'm okay…I am…just get me up…"

Kenny let out a breath. "Shit…"

Lee's stomach became hot like an oven, nauseating him. It was like that rod was impaling him as well, and he felt the cold iron severing his entrails and pinning him down like a sheet paper pierced by a pushpin. _No, it couldn't be. _There was still hope. She could still live through. He survived an arm amputation, Rick survived a bullet to the ribs, Kenny pulled through when a bullet traversed his stomach and Daryl made it after an arrow cut through him. If they all made it through those death fondling wounds, she could too. Lee squatted next to her, the adrenaline blurring his thinking. He grabbed her sides, his grip feeble due to the emotion that softened him. Her eyes were darting in all directions, confused, not understanding what was going on. Lee drew a breath. This was going to hurt. But if it could save her, he was going to do it.

He slid her up the bar. An ear drilling holler blared out her mouth. Her flesh was stuck on the bar. Her ribs cracked, chilling Lee's spine to the last vertebrae. He let go of her, his face twisted and a tear welling up in his eye. _I…I can't do it._ She hyperventilated, widening her eyelids. "What's…wrong…?"

Lee remained silent, his gaze lowered. Kenny put his hands on his hips. She raised her head, wrapping her fingers around the rod. She dropped her head back down, staring up at the grey sky, her lips curved and her sub-conscious aware that she was savoring the last minutes of her life. Lee was at a loss for words. That situation would only lead them down one path. It became clear to him. A tear streamed down his cheek. He felt something warm touching his right arm. He blinked the tears away. Carley's hand was reaching for his. The two grasped onto each other, their gazes doing all the talking.

Kenny lifted his head. He forgot about something. _Shit, the walkers. _He fired two quick glances around him. Handfuls of lurkers were dragging their feet into the alleyway, their jaws hanging open and their milky eyes targeting them. Kenny whipped out the Beretta. "Fuck! The walkers, they're coming!"

Lee tapped on her hands, mouthing her a phrase – I'll be back. He got up, turning to Kenny. "You got any bullets left?!"

"Only one!" Kenny said.

"Give it to me."

"Are you…?!"

"I said give it to me!"

Kenny passed the gun onto him. Lee scrutinized it, his nostrils enlarging with each large breath he was forced to take as his heart raced faster. He crouched next to Carley, planting a long-lasting kiss on her forehead. "I love you…"

She croaked, the tears streaming down both their faces. "I love you…too…take this…"

Carley stretched her arm towards her belt. She pulled out her Glock 17. Lee took it and put it in his belt. He stood up and aimed the pistol at her head. She shut her eyes, a whimper escaping her lips. The gun shook in his hand, his finger stiff and hovering near the trigger. Kenny encased the pistol with his fingers, his friend spinning his gaze towards him. "I'll do it, Lee. Like you did for me."

"But…but I…have to…"

"You don't, Lee."

Lee nodded. Kenny took the pistol from his hand and aimed it at the woman's head. "Sorry."

The gun barked.

* * *

The gunshot echoed in the air. Christa, Molly and Omid flinched. They peeked over the edge. The walkers had invaded the alleyway, their presence omnipresent within it. They kneeled down next to Carley, a bullet-sized hole marked on her forehead, sinking their claws into her stomach and neck, splattering red blood onto their rotten skulls. Their two friends were nowhere to be seen. They backed away, the disgust clogging their throats. They weren't keen on watching one of theirs be devoured by the dead. Maybe they didn't know her all too well, but they knew Lee. And they knew that once he climbed back on that rooftop, he wouldn't be the same.

Metallic jangles came from the ladder, rhythmed like footsteps. They gawked in anticipation, not knowing what to tell their friends once they were there. Kenny stepped onto the roof. He didn't look at them. Lee appeared next. His jaw was dangling slightly open, his cheeks redden and his puffy eyes wet. He walked a few meters away from them, his head hunkered down, not moving a muscle.

"What happened?" Christa asked.

Christa turned to Kenny for an answer. He scratched his mullet. Lee's throat dried up like a desert, but he forced himself to say something. "She's…gone…there's just…there were just…too many of them…she was too messed up…I…"

The silence crumbled amid them. They just waited for Lee to say something, to give them a clue on what they could do to help him.

"Goddamn! God!" Lee howled, essaying to relieve the burden from his chest, his face buried in his hand.

Kenny gripped his friend's shoulder. Lee knew he had someone else who needed him. He wiped the tears, his heart aching yet still beating for a sole purpose. Omid stared blankly at him. No jokes could be made now. Christa approached Lee, and did her best to say what needed to be said. "We should go."

Lee nodded, his tone devoid of emotion. "Right behind you."

* * *

They proceeded through the rooftops in silence, during minutes, hours. Lee didn't keep track. The images of his lover's death flashed before his eyes, repeating themselves over and over, blinding him from the real world. If he was walking straight into a cliff, he wouldn't notice it and he wouldn't stop. It was like an out-of-body experience. He barely felt his feet stepping forward, one after the other, and his hands gently swaying back and forth with each footfall, while his mind floated somewhere else. He ignored his friends' glimpses that often fell upon him, trying to decipher his expression – his lips aligned, a frown weighing down his visage, his breathing paced irregularly. Within him, the burden of sorrow began to fade and evolve into a fire of rage.

"You want to talk?" Christa asked.

Lee was jerked away from his daydreaming and awakened back to reality. The world became clearer around him. He didn't recognize where they were. He truly had blacked out, but now he was once again conscious. They were still on the same rooftop, but they had advanced a lot. He processed Christa's words and sighed. Did he want to talk? Maybe. "Carley, she…she always had my back. Hmph, I still remember our first kiss. On Hershel's farm. That moment I told myself…maybe we could still put our lives back on track, even in this world…fuck…"

They reached the edge of the roof. The next building was too far away, but there was a makeshift bridge made of planks with gaps between them nailed to two rails that connected the two.

"Fuck, be careful across here." Christa said.

Lee initiated the crossing, his friends strolling behind him. They stared down at the walkers, that seemed like ashen dots on the streets seen from above. They placed each step with care, their ears tuned in to any creak that would alert them of the bridge breaking. Lee made it across and saw his friends arrive, one by one, in safety. Omid wiped his forehead. "River Street's just up ahead."

They resumed their march. Molly approached Lee. "Hey, Lee…just know that, I'm here for you, okay?"

"Yeah…I appreciate it…" Lee said.

Omid stopped, seeing a squared hole on the rooftop. Below, in a darkened room, there were walkers roaming about. "Whoa, careful here."

"Just stroll around it." Molly said.

"You know, you oughta give that guy a word and tell him we're coming." Kenny said.

Lee agreed with a grunt, reaching for his walkie-talkie. "Yeah."

"Wait!" Molly said. "That's foolish and not a good idea. Do we really wanna let him know that we're onto him?"

"She's right, we'd better let him think we're not anywhere nearby." Christa said.

Lee nodded and put back his walkie-talkie. God, all of his feelings were clouding his judgment. He couldn't allow himself to put Clementine in danger. He had to repress his emotions for her. Lee led them ahead. The sky became purple and the sun was descending behind the skyline of mountains. He scoped out the city. The adrenaline hyped him up when he saw three large words on the front of a building. The Marsh House. They were just two rooftops away. The team halted at the boundary of the roof. They spotted a good way to cruise across - a horizontal sign linked the two buildings, the metal and bolts maroon by rust.

"The Marsh House is just around the corner of the block. We'll have to cross here." Lee said.

"Well, at least it doesn't look like a death trap." Omid said.

The sign creaked loudly. Christa sprang around towards him. Omid's eyes spanned wide open. "Who's going first?"

"You're the lightest…" Christa said.

"I'm obviously not doing so hot. I'll go first." Lee said.

"You sure?" Molly asked.

"Yeah."

Lee sat on the edge and lowered himself down onto the sign, putting his feet between the bars and latching himself with his sole hand. He put caution into each step, despite the crammed crowds of walkers below that taunted him to fall with their growls. The relief cooled his spine once he reached the end, but then there was an immense screech and the sign broke off in two. Half of it plunged into the sea of walkers below, while the other half where Lee held on to remained attached to the façade, slightly dangling down. Lee grasped onto the remnant of the sign, his palm sweaty. _God, that was close._

"Shit! Are you okay?!" Kenny shouted.

"Yeah, but I'm kind of fucked here!" Lee said.

"Geez, Lee, just stay there, we'll find a way to help you!" Molly said.

Lee stared down at the walkers, counting hundreds of them gawking up at him, some of them pinned down by the sign. There was only one solution. "Fuck it! I'm going for it!"

"Going for it?!" Omid said.

"What the hell does that mean?!" Kenny said.

"It means I'm already bitten! I just have to push my way through!"

"You're not sure if you're really infected!" Molly screamed.

"It's just a risk I'll have to take!"

"What the fuck?!" Omid yelled.

"Go back to Rick and the others!" Lee said. "I'll meet you guys with Clementine by the train!"

"You're a crazy motherfucker, you know that?!" Kenny screamed.

"There's no other way!"

Lee calculated the distance he was from the ground. _Survivable. _He dropped down. He landed hard and tumbled onto his knees, his feet sore. The hotel was just around the corner. He strolled towards his destination, until a voice stopped him.

"Hey, Lee!"

He looked up at Molly. She whipped out her pickaxe and threw it at him. Lee grabbed it midair. "Take good care of it!"

"I will." Lee said, slinging it on his back.

He sauntered around the corner, his friends waning behind him. He was alone, to fight his battle. He stiffened his whole body, turning it hard like a brick wall. He wasn't going to stop. Even if it meant getting bit once, twice or thrice more. The Marsh House was at the end of the street, but a dense horde walled him off. He took a step forward, and heard a crack. He looked down and saw shattered glass on the road. He picked up a glass shard and tightened his grip, the pain stinging him but he was numb to it. The blood flowed down his hand from the cut and painted the shard. The anguish left him and now there was only the rage he was about to release. All of the distracting thoughts were gone. Solely the goal that mattered to him and resounded in his head. _Get Clementine. Get Clementine. _He was going to get them, came hell or high water.

He stormed into the fray.

He drove the glass shard into the eye-socket of the nearest walker, knocking it down with a shoulder tackle. The shard slipped from his hand. He took out the pickaxe and slashed through the walkers. The rage just piled up, fueling him and letting him tear through the horde, the crusted blood sprinkling onto his shirt. He kept doing the same movements like a rut, withdrawing his arm and thrusting the blade into their foreheads, temples and brainstems.

He was close. There were only a few more walkers in his way. He locked his gaze on a male zombie, with a wine-colored t-shirt. He drilled its skull with the blade, so much anger driven into it that the blade penetrated it until the back of its head. When he yanked it out, the lurker's eyeball was stuck on the blade. He bemoaned and shook the pickaxe until it came off, and continued ahead. He was arriving in the hotel's front parking lot. He peeped back at the slaughter he left behind with his face twisted, slowing down. The adrenaline was dissolving in his blood and the fatigue hit him, his muscles cushioned. He dragged his feet ahead, his spine curved forward.

There was a station wagon in the driveway. He stopped, being struck by a familiar sensation. _Wait a minute._ It was the station wagon from which they took supplies one month ago, after the St. John's. Now it all made sense. But it didn't matter.

He stepped into the hotel, shutting the door behind him. The moment he waited for was coming.

* * *

The night skies had risen. The hallways were long and identical, with rows of doors on each side, bathed in cobalt moonlight. Lee trekked through the elongated halls, not sure how he would find the man. He walked slowly, and the carpet muffled his footsteps. Not only could he be stealthy, but he could keep his eyes peeled and his ears open for any noise. However, the silence was so oppressive that it became eerie, almost unbearable, like in a horror movie. At least when he heard walkers, he knew the world was functioning as it should. Who knew which monsters waited behind each bedroom door, waiting to jump him.

There was a rumbling behind one door. Lee pressed his ear against it. Nothing. He opened it and entered inside.

The room was a typical hotel bedroom. The bathroom door and the closet door were situated on opposite sides of the room, and their knobs were strung together by a rope. Lee approached the particular setup, with a curved brow. There were footsteps behind him. He sprang around.

The Stranger was there, with a pistol dangling at his waist level, beamed at him.

He had piercing green eyes, a grey shade in his face and deep wrinkles running down his cheeks. He seemed somewhat soothed, with a blank expression. The atmosphere was creepily calm.

"I got us adjoining rooms." The man said, his voice suave, almost a whisper.

"Hello." Lee said, in a regular tone.

"Okay…th—this is civil. You look horrible. And you're missing an arm."

Lee looked down at his stump. His arm below his elbow was gone and his blue shirt was soaked in walker blood. The Stranger pointed his pistol towards a table. "Go over there."

Lee sighed and walked in front of the table, turning his back towards the man.

"Put your things down." The Stranger said.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door and Clementine spoke. "Let me out! Who's there?!"

Lee opened his mouth, but the Stranger butted the gun against his cheek and shushed him, with a finger in front of his lips. "Quiet, please, sweetie!" He turned to Lee. "Your pickaxe and your other things, there."

She was safe and alive. _What a relief. _Now he just had to gain the upper hand on the man. He stayed still for a second, unsure on what to do. He had to bide for an opportunity. But now wasn't it. He reached for his walkie-talkie and put it on the table. The Stranger nodded. "Good. Go sit down."

They strolled towards two armchairs and sat in them. Lee stayed straight with his body arthritic, while the man sank in the armchair, lowering his gun. He had a bowling bag situated between his feet. Lee had a bad gut feeling. It was almost like they were just having a normal talk, like two strangers at a café who happen to strike a conversation. So normal. But the things that used to be normal were now bizarre.

"Do you know who I am?" The man asked.

Lee took a good look at him. He knew his identity. He was the owner of the station wagon they raided a month ago. Although he didn't know what this man had gone through, or who he was. "No. I don't know anything about you."

"You wouldn't. People like you don't." The Stranger hissed. "Now you're thinking, 'who would have it out for me, huh? A few weeks back, there might have been a station wagon in the forest. Full of all sorts of food, water, things you need to survive. Yeah, I'm not some cannibal, Lee. Some suicidal scientist. Some killer out in the woods. Some villain. I'm just a dad. I coach little league."

"I didn't take from you." Lee said.

"Your people didn't?" The Stranger repeated, lifting an eyebrow.

"I didn't agree with it."

"That's what little Clementine said. Why didn't you?"

"It wasn't right. It wasn't our stuff."

"That's real nice of you."

"Look. What do you want me to say?" Lee asked, quickly losing his patience.

"I don't want you to say anything." The Stranger said. "I want you to know what happened. Have you ever…hurt somebody…you care about?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"Who?"

There was only one image who was one-hundred percent vivid in his mind. "Clementine."

"That doesn't come as a shock."

"She wants her parents back. But I can't bring them back for her. And I'm not her dad. What about you?"

The man lowered his head, staring at the floor. "I hurt her so bad…my son, Adam, went missing. I took him out hunting even though my wife said he was too young. I figured he had to learn. I came back without him and the look on her face said, "You are a monster". We all went out looking for him. We never found him. I hurt her so bad. And then we came back and all of our stuff was gone. Your people, Lee. That asshole in the ball cap. His stupid fucking wife. I could've earned her trust back if they hadn't made our situation so desperate."

"I'm sorry."

"The hungrier we got the more she blamed me. Until she finally took out daughter, Elizabeth, and left. They didn't last long…I found them a day later on the road. Do I look like a monster to you?"

"We're all monsters nowadays." Lee said.

"I'm not like you!" The Stranger jeered, nearing his face to his. "You brought a little girl to a dairy full of sick people and let them get their hands on her!"

"It's more complicated than that."

"You nearly got her killed at the CDC!"

"I couldn't predict Jenner would do that!"

"You destroyed the Greene's lives by taking away all they had!"

"That's not the whole story. Carl would've died otherwise."

"And you left Clementine all alone when the walkers invaded the farm."

"Me and Carley…!" Lee said, pausing for a second to process that name that became hard to pronounce. "We were trapped in the barn. We couldn't get to her."

"And now you've brought her to the most dangerous place on earth, where she could've died!"

"I couldn't just have left her in Atlanta!"

"She would've been better off!"

Lee flicked his eyes over the man's hand. The pistol was aiming towards him. The Stranger took a breath, recomposing himself and reclining back on the chair, aiming away the pistol. Lee shook his head. Anger, sadness, regret, were all striking him at once. "How could you know all this?"

The Stranger flashed him a smug smirk, fishing into his pocket. He took out a blue walkie-talkie and set it on the coffee table between them. Lee withdrew his head, his jaw dropping.

"You're a monster. You're a murderer and a thief and I'm gonna hurt you so bad."

"This doesn't have to go down this way." Lee said.

"You can't take care of anyone!" He shouted. "After I found Clementine on the radio I wasn't even mad at you. I was coming for the others. For revenge. But the more I heard about the things you did and the danger she was in…our plan changed. Lee, listen to me. I need you to hear this before what happens next. I can take care of her. We can have a family. I bet you don't even know how old she is."

Lee shut his eyes for a second, being taken back.

* * *

_Lee tapped his belt, just feeling the leather. Goddammit, where was his pistol? He left it somewhere in his tent, amongst his things and blankets, and he couldn't find it. Daryl was already pissed that him, Mark, Rick and Glenn were slowing him down from searching for his brother, and now his pistol was missing. Clementine was still sleeping in her bedroll. He looked back at her, tucked in her blankets._

_ "Looking for something?" She asked, muffled by the sheets._

_ "Yeah, can't find my gun." Lee said. _

_ Clementine untangled from her sheets and sat up, yawning. "You're going to get T-Dog?"_

_ "Yeah, Clementine. We can't leave him behind." Lee said, flicking his eyes through the room. "Maybe it's in the camper."_

_ "Maybe Carley took it."_

_ Lee halted his rummaging. Yes, she was right. He had given it to her the previous day, since he trusted her more to hold onto the weaponry. Having found out his whole family was dead the previous day, it was the only thing that occupied his memory. He smiled back at the girl. "Oh, yeah. I'm gonna run and get it, I'll be back in an instant. Thanks, kiddo."_

_ "You're welcome."_

_ Lee crouched towards the exit, but then stopped. "You know, you're a really clever girl. Just how old are you?"_

_ "Uh…I'm eight."_

* * *

Lee looked back at the man. God, things used to be so different. "She's eight."

"Wrong." The Stranger said. Lee's face contorted like a spiral. What the hell was he talking about? "She's nine."

Lee's eyes sank to the floor. "But…"

"Her birthday was six days ago. I know how to be a dad, you know. She wouldn't have been exposed to what she has been with you."

"Look, I was bitten."

His eyes bulged out of his orbits. "You were what?!"

"Yeah. I probably don't have a whole lot of time."

"Wow. Okay, then."

"You'll take care of her?"

"We'll give her a home."

"Why are you saying 'we'?"

The Stranger bent down towards the bowling bag. "Hey, honey, I think this is all going to work out."

"What are you…?"

Lee spotted something from the corner of his eye. Clementine was opening the bathroom door. Lee clenched his fist; she was going to fling back the closet, alerting the Stranger. However, Clementine opened just a gap, and untied the rope from the knob. _That little girl doesn't cease to amaze me. _The girl creeped out of the closet, looking at the table. There were three weapons she could use – a lamp, an empty bottle and the pickaxe.

"I wish you wouldn't have to get this bad, but it's all over, hon. Isn't it?" The Stranger spoke into the bag.

"Just about." Lee said.

Lee gestured with his head towards the pickaxe. Clementine peeped at it, her arms bent and raised in a defensive stance. She picked up the sharp tool, and tiptoed towards the man.

"I miss you so much, Tess. You're going to like Clementine a lot, though. She's not Lizzy, but she's sweet. She wouldn't hurt a fly."

Clementine dug the pickaxe into the man's shoulder. He shouted, springing around with the pickaxe sticking out of his shoulder. Lee dashed towards him and tackled him off his chair, but the man was faster and kicked him off him. Lee rolled on the ground, while the Stranger towered above him, yanking out the pickaxe and aiming the gun at his head. Lee grasped the barrel and kept it away from his head, punching the man with his stump, each blow igniting his wound on fire, albeit the man didn't budge. He shoved the man away with a kick. The gun flew throughout the room and into the corner. The man fell against the bedframe, both of their gazes locked on the pistol.

The Stranger rushed in a limp across the room. Lee couldn't allow him to grab the pistol, otherwise it was all over. He got up and crashed the Stranger into the closet, breaking the doors' hinges. Lee fanged his fingers on his neck, tightening his grip as much as possible, headbutting him and banging his head against the wall, not holding back any savagery.

But he still only had one arm. The Stranger pushed him to the ground, mounting on top of him and wrapping his fingers around his neck. Lee stared down at his infuriated eyes. It was over. He was pinned to the ground, and there was no way he was escaping now.

"You son of a bitch! Just go away! Die!"

A gunshot rattled the walls. The man's temple erupted in a burst of blood, the grip on his neck softening. Lee pushed the dead man aside, arising to a sitting position and panting. He looked to his right. Clementine had the pistol in her quivering hands, her lips curved and her lashes batting. "I—I—I-"

Lee kneeled in front of her and pulled her into a hug. She sniffled, her eyes closed, feeling the comfort of his touch against her skin. A cold sweat coursed down Lee's spine. "It's okay…it's okay…"

"I…" Clementine said, flicking her eyes over his stump. "Your arm's gone…why? That's so scary."

"I had an accident. We'll talk about it somewhere safe."

"You don't smell good."

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm sorry, Lee…"

"Clem, it's okay." Lee said, standing on his feet. "We need to get you somewhere safe, and then we have to talk, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Everything's okay, now. We need to figure out how to get out of Savannah as fast as we can."

Lee took the pistol from the ground and gawked at the dead man. It was frightening to imagine that he had hurt this man so much to conduct him so far to take revenge on him. But right now, he didn't care about anything else. He was devoid of empathy for him. At least now he was with his family. Still, it couldn't have been easy on Clementine.

"Hey, you saved me."

"It's my fault. Everything is dangerous. Like you said."

"It's okay. You learn."

Lee walked towards the bowling bag. He peeped inside. A zombified head was stuffed in there, its white eyes glowing bright and its jaw battering. "God…" Lee turned to Clementine. "Don't look in there."

"No, I know." Clementine said.

Lee headed towards the door and opened it. A walker stood in the doorpost, their noses almost glued together. He was paralyzed. The walker was going to lean forward and chew a bite out of him. Lee already pictured the zombie crawling on top of him, eating out his stomach, Clementine viewing and hollering. End of the road for him. But no. The walker remained still, growling and inspecting the human. Lee had a chance. He shoved the walker to the ground, aimed the pistol at its head and pressed the trigger of his pistol several times, although it only clicked after the first shot.

"It…it…it didn't bite you." Clementine said.

"Yeah…I know…it must've…"

"You're covered in all that gross stuff."

"I had to get through a bunch of them to get here."

Lee eyed his grimy and bloodied shirt, the pickaxe and the dead zombie on the ground. It was crazy. But he had an idea. "That's how we'll get out of Savannah."

Clementine watched the dark man take the pickaxe and squat next to the cadaver. "They smell horrible, which means you have to, too."

"Yuck…okay…"

Lee raised the blade. Clementine turned around and walked away. "Oh, no…"

Lee sliced its stomach open, flinging the pickaxe on his back once more. Its bowels were like a cauldron of a gooey potion that reeked like garbage. He took out the intestine, his lip twitching. Clementine approached him. He smeared the entrails on the girl. She grumbled and shook, as if cold water was being poured on her. She kept her chin high, to avoid the sight of the goo soaking her and avert any blood getting on her skin. Her dress was now bister due to the dark liquid. Lee gestured her to turn around, and he kept smearing her back. "We'll get you cleaned up as soon as we can."

"Not soon enough…" Clementine muttered. "Are you done?"

"A little more. I wanna be sure. Just…a little more…"

"So…gross..."

Lee tossed aside the intestine. He nodded, figuring it was good enough. He got up. "That should do it."

"I hope so." Clementine said, turning around.

He stared down at the contradicting image of the girl. A cute face bedecked with a heavy frown and a dress doused in blood. But something was absent. On her head. "And you're missing something."

Lee took out her purple and white hat. Clementine picked it up and put it in her head. "I thought it was gone…"

"I thought you were gone."

Clementine smiled. "Thank you."

"Stay right next to me and walk very slowly." Lee explained. "Don't look around and don't panic."

"Huh-uh."

"I'll keep you safe."

* * *

Lee and Clementine stood outside the hotel, peering into the seaway of walkers. Lee set his hand on the back of the girl, the two exchanging a glance. Lee nodded at her, hellbent on not letting go of her. He led them into the horde. They imitated their behavior, waving their body extremities sloppily and adopting a limp in their walking. The immersion made them sweat, their moaning echoed around them in every direction. An itching sensation bugged them from behind, always feeling like one of the undead would see through their disguise and embed their teeth in their necks. A walker bumped into Lee's shoulder. His respiration fastened and he peeped behind him. The biter kept on marching, not even turning its head towards him.

Clementine stopped walking, her eyes locked on something across the street. Lee followed her gaze, seeing a woman and a man, both of them turned to walkers. He didn't recognize them. But he knew that there was only two people she would be shocked to see. "Clem…don't…"

He felt his strength flushing out of him. His forehead was burning up, his stump palpitating with pain. _Dammit. Not now. _He fell onto his knees. Clementine spun around towards him. He had to stay strong. For her. He got up, one leg at the time, and led Clementine further into the horde. The little girl didn't turn away from her dead parents, until at one point, they disappeared behind the other zombies. She pivoted her head in front of her, sniffing and blinking the tears away. Lee imagined what was going through her head. Maybe the same thing he felt when he found his dead parents in the alley behind the pharmacy. But at least now she had some closure.

* * *

They traversed horde after horde, hour after hour. Their muscles were sore and tired, seeming to be heavy as flour bags. Dragging one foot after the other, each step lasting an eternity and it looked like they were never going to make it. Their camouflage had been flawless until then. They became the walkers. Just walking and walking, not stopping for anything. They were arriving at the city's frontier, crossing through a horde that was less opaque. Clementine sniffled, holding back her tears. "Lee…I…I can't…"

"Ssh, Clem…" Lee said.

"I can't walk anymore…" She said, feeling like her legs would melt.

Lee picked Clementine up and carried her in his arms. He was unbalanced, lacking one of his hands, but his undying love gave him all of the strength he needed. Clementine tucked her limps close to her torso, hiding her face into the man's chest. Lee wasn't sure if the walkers would react if they moved differently, so he kept an eye on them. Two or three revolved their heads towards them, but after Lee kept mimicking their deformed walk, hiding the girl against his chest, they kept on going their way. "Not a peep, Clem."

The tall oak trees were emerging past the houses. _We're on the outskirts. _Lee smiled, fastening his pace a little bit and penetrating into the forest. He put down Clementine. Lee glanced past his shoulder. The urbanized neighborhoods and lanky buildings disappeared with the distance, and the embrace of nature with the straws of moonlight piercing the leaves surrounded them. It was like a farewell. A goodbye to that wretched city and a new chapter in their lives. Lee tore off his blue shirt and threw it aside, leaving him in a white t-shirt. Clementine rubbed the blood off with her sleeves. The cold bristled Lee's hairs. "We're here, Clementine."

"Is it over…?" She asked with a shaky voice.

"It is for now."

The train and railroad tracks came into view. Rick was standing on top of the boxcar. He saw him and climbed down the wagon, sprinting towards him. "Lee!"

Lee looked at the man that approached him in a rush. The joy invaded him and he ran forward, but collapsed onto his knees. He set his fist on the ground, blinking to keep his lucidity, yet his eyelids became too heavy for him to keep them open. The fever peaked once more and his stump burned up in flames. He dropped on the ground, the blades of grass prickling his skin. He drifted away, hearing the muffled echoes of his name being called by the girl and the sheriff.

* * *

Lee woke up, staring up at the ceiling of the boxcar. He was shirtless and his torso was sweaty, a wet rag soaking his hot forehead. Laying in a mattress, he almost didn't want to move. He was comfortable, despite being soaked and reeking of transpiration. He blinked several times, looking around the room. Yeah, the boxcar was just as they left it. Clementine, Rick, Molly and Hershel sat around him.

"Geez…" Lee croaked, rubbing his dry eyelids.

"Lee! Thank God…" Rick said with a throbbing voice.

"You really took a spill." Molly said, closing her eyes and letting out a long sigh.

Lee raised his chest, leaning back on his elbows. "What the hell happened…?"

"You passed out." Clementine said, sniffling. "I thought you left me…"

"Don't worry, I'm here now." Lee said, hugging his daughter tightly. _Yes, my daughter._

"So, listen…" Hershel said, catching Lee's attention. He detached from Clementine and turned to the veterinarian. "I think you're in the clear. Your fever's gone. I don't believe the walker bite got to you. Otherwise, you'd probably be dead."

Lee let out a huge breath, the relief so immense that he couldn't help laughing. Rick smiled, a tear sliding down his cheek, but he quickly wiped his eye, blocking any other tears from being shed. Hershel reached into his pocket and took out two pills. "You're lucky I always carry a few medical supplies on me."

Hershel put the pills in his mouth. Lee swallowed them. The doctor got up and headed to the exit. "I'll give you some time, but I'm sure the others would like seeing you."

Hershel shut the door after him. Lee caressed Clementine's hair. "Hey, Clem, are you okay…?"

Clementine smiled, but it quickly faded. "Lee, I saw my parents…"

"I know." Lee nodded. "But you know what? I think that's a good thing. I know it's sad and I wish it was some other way, but at least, now you know what happened to them."

"Yeah." Clementine nodded, lowering her head.

Lee looked at Rick. His sheriff coat was gone, from when he used it to stanch his bleeding, and now he only wore a dark-yellow shirt. "Shit, you don't look the same without the badge hanging off your chest."

"Wanna know something? That badge doesn't mean anything anymore. To me, or to anyone. C'mon, Molly, let's head outside and give these two a minute."

Molly nodded and the two left through the door. Lee kneeled next to Clementine. "I'm so glad you're okay, Clem."

"I was so scared…" Clementine said. "But Hershel said you're not going to turn into a walker, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Don't worry about it." Lee said, kissing her forehead. "You're strong, Clem. You can do anything. And just know, you're going to face a lot of hard things in the future. But I know you can overcome them. Even if someday, I'm not there, I know you'll pull through."

* * *

Rick and Molly stood outside the wagon, waiting for their friend. Next to the locomotive, the group gathered around a lit bonfire, the flames illuminating their hollowed and empty expressions. Dale looked at the sheriff. He got up and came up to him. "You know, Rick, you really know how to be an asshole at times."

Molly quirked an eyebrow, watching the discussion from a few steps away. Rick straightened his posture. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You were totally out of line back on the attic. Andrea was our saving grace, she organized everyone, made sure we were safe, and it was thanks to her we managed to escape alive!"

"Dale, I'm sorry but I have a lot on my plate right now, just cut me a break."

"You know what? I regret what I said back in Atlanta. You're not fit to be our leader. Andrea did what was needed and made the best possible choice in those circumstances. You're just an ungrateful bastard!"

Dale stormed off. Rick sighed and rubbed his temples, the guilt twinging within him. Every day that passed by, those people lost their faith in him. Molly snorted. "That was a bit…uncalled for."

"I ain't gonna be judged by someone like you." Rick said.

"Someone like me? Who exactly am I to you?"

"You're someone I don't know jack shit about, hasn't given me a reason to trust and hasn't done a whole lot for us up until now."

"Pfft. I have no idea how Lee likes you."

"Yeah, you wouldn't. You don't know me."

The boxcar shrieked open. Clementine stepped in the exact spot her mentor did, always just a few centimeters away from him, and Lee was dressed with a new blue shirt, with one of the buttons missing and a hole in the stomach area. "Found this old rag among Chuck's things."

"Don't think he'll mind you taking it." Rick said.

"Molly, mind going with Clem to the bonfire for a while?"

"Why?" Clementine asked.

"I just want to talk to Rick about what we are going to do next. You know, grown-up things."

Clementine folded her arms. "Can't I just stay with you?"

"Don't be stubborn. It'll only be for five minutes. I promise."

"Alright, don't take too long." Molly said.

Lee patted her head. The two girls climbed down the lateral ladder and headed towards the pit-fire. "So, our next move?"

"Harlan escaped, but we got this." Rick said, taking out his map and showing it to Lee. He unfolded it and gasped. "I know, right? It's almost an answered prayer. We'll have to do something to get back Daryl and Lilly. But whatever we'll do, we'll figure it out tomorrow."

Lee and Rick hopped off the train and strolled towards the others. "Christa told me about Carley."

Lee dodged his gaze away, no words crossing his mind. The group chanted welcoming words with a brief smile on their faces, aside a few exceptions that stayed apathetic and reactionless. Omid, Christa and Kenny stood up when they saw him. "Hell, we were beginning to think you were a dead man walking."

Lee firmly gave Omid and Kenny a handshake, then hugged Christa with a beam. "So did I. But now, I'm back."

"So…what're we gonna do?" Glenn asked.

Rick got up, standing in front of the group that rose their eyes towards him. "I know this has been a tiring day for everyone. We've barely slept or eaten in two days. We lost all of the supplies we had. But we're alive. I know we've lost three of our own. But we have to keep pushing forward. Tonight, we rest. Otherwise we won't be able to stand."

"Right now, all we have left is each other." Lee said. "That's all we have left in this world. It's all that matters. That's why Daryl and Lilly are our priority. They were taken by the Living, and though it may be hard, we'll have to face them and retrieve them. Because we always have each other's backs. That's the most important thing, in my opinion. The moment where that rule is null, is the moment where we've become worse than the walkers. But for now, get a good night's rest. Everything else, we'll sort out in the morning."

* * *

After it was midnight, the bonfire was extinguished and Chuck was in the boxcar, distributing the few blankets he had amongst the survivors, who were settling who slept where. Lee and Rick stood in a secluded location, a few meters away from the train.

"We're really gonna do this? We're going to kill people in order to get ours back?" Lee said.

Rick shrugged. "I don't see how there's any other way. They're not open to negotiate. You know that."

Lee nodded, a heavy frown above his gaze. "It's hard to believe that this is what we do now. Kill."

"Things have changed, Lee."

"They have. But is this really what I want to show Clementine? That we too can be killers?"

"Lee, you know that this is the only way. When we were attacked by the bandits on the Estates, did you hesitate to shoot when your life was on the line? No, you didn't. We all got blood on our hands, but it doesn't mean we're bad people. It means we've had our backs against the wall, and we wanted to live!"

Lee nodded. What he said made sense. It was legitimate defense. But this time, they anticipated and attacked first. They killed two of theirs. And if it meant the safety of Clementine, he would do anything. He told it to Vernon. Anyone who got between him and his little girl, would wind up dead. "You're right, I know that, I just…wanted to talk it through. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if we left Daryl and Lilly behind."

* * *

Once again, they had returned to the days of squeezing into tight compartments in order to sleep. Glenn and Maggie slept in the cab, ready to put the train in motion if a rapid escape was needed or to shoot down any intruders with her rifle. Larry, for some reason, wanted to sleep on the outside. Rick tried to keep watch on top of the boxcar, if the fatigue didn't overwhelm him. The rest of them were all bunked in the boxcar, leaving a crack of the side doors open so the smell wouldn't sicken them, all of them compressed against one another on the ground like sardines in a can. The only reason they managed to fall asleep was due to the sleep deprivation that forced them to get some shut-eye.

"Dale, it's understandable." Andrea murmured to Dale. "Rick has a lot of weight on his shoulders."

"He had no right to blame everything on you!" Dale replied. Andrea remained silent, not know how to reply. "If you ask me, I think he's just become a self-righteous prick."

On top on the wagon, Rick coiled into a ball, shivering due to the cold. He tried to discern that conversation after he heard his name. He wasn't sure why he volunteered to be on watch. He was going to fall asleep anyway. Maybe Lori's glares and remarks were colder than the night itself. Maybe he no longer found comfort in her touch. Maybe solitude was better. He shook his head like a dog that just came out of the water, dissipating his thoughts. No, that wasn't true. It couldn't be. Their marriage was a little shaken up, but he would find a way to put it back on track. But in that instant, he was alone. Alone, in the cold, with his fears and doubts. Did everyone see him as a callous monster? Didn't anyone see the good he was trying to do? Did he already lose his wife and son? Did he already lose himself? Those questions assaulted him and came with no answer. He just tucked his head into his legs and let the held-back tears flow. He could instantly listen to his father yelling in his head. _Men don't cry!_ But he could never be like that.

* * *

Outside, a fog was clouding the dark horizon and the air was fresh as ice. Larry took each breath with pleasure, the adrenaline tickling him. He felt alive. He held his breath for half a minute, his ears aware of any sound. A snore and someone tossing about in the wagon. But that was it. Everyone was asleep and wouldn't notice him. He posited himself in a crouching stance, and put his plan into march.

Larry climbed onto the railing of the passageway conjoining the wagons and peeked up. Rick was slumping to the side, his chest inflating up and down at a calm pace. He vaulted onto the ceiling and crept towards him. He locked his gaze on his face, searching for any twitches or shifts in his facial features, while he pickpocketed his map. He slipped it from his pocket and climbed back down.

He had one of the things he needed. Then, he slithered towards the cab. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and pulled it back slowly. The rusty hinges creaked. He bit his lip, swearing in his head. Glenn and Maggie, who were laying on the ground, moved an arm or a leg, but didn't wake up. Everyone must've been in a profound slumber after such a tiresome day. The sniper rifle was leaning against the pilot seat. Larry stretched his arm out, picked it up and slung it on his back, shutting the door once more.

He vaulted over the railing and jogged towards the forest. He had his pillboxes in case anything happened, but it wouldn't be best if he didn't pump up his heart too much. It was like he was back on those wars when he was in the army. A one-man mission, with only a rifle and a map to aid him, along with the unyielding determination he possessed. He was going to find his daughter and get her back.

* * *

Lee slumped with his back against the wall, Clementine curled next to him. He stared at her, seeing her sleep, like so many sleepless nights before. Such a strong and clever girl. This is what his life had become, take care of this little girl whose innocence was thawing as she was exposed to the world. She killed a person for the first time earlier that day. What would that do to her? Would he ever see her smile again in this world? There was a sheet of paper near her feet, along with a few markers. It was a drawing, but it was difficult to make out what it was in the obscurity. He took the paper and it became clear in the scarce moonlight. It was just red. Everywhere. Perhaps blood? Lee gulped down his saliva and returned the drawing to its place.

Molly was coiled near him. He knew she was awake. She was someone who fell asleep after everyone else. Maybe she didn't even fall asleep. "Not able to sleep?"

"I'm just…processing some things…" Lee whispered back. "Here, I think I forgot to give you this."

He picked up her pickaxe that was next to him and gave it to her. Molly took it and looked at it. The handle was drenched with blood incrustations. In normal situations, she would be berating at the person who mangled her precious pickaxe, but she let it slide. "Almost thought it was the last time I'd seen her."

"Sorry. The blood might be hard to scrub off and the blade might need some sharpening."

"But you're okay. That's what's important."

"Even more that Hilda?"

"Yeah. Even more than Hilda."

Lee smiled. "We should try to get some sleep."

Molly closed her eyes and adjusted her clothes tighter to her body. Lee fluttered his eyelids shut. But as always, within a few seconds, he saw Carley, covered in gore, impaled by that rod. God, he wished he could have something to remember her face without it being that horrible image of her death, some photographs, anything. But there was only one memento he had of her. He reached into his belt, taking out her Glock 17. He had a brief smirk. She was always showing everyone how a dead-eye shot she was with the pistol. He had an idea. He grabbed the black marker near Clementine's feet and popped off the lid. With a steady hand, he drew the letter C on the slide.

He stared into the handgun for several minutes. He analyzed it, and looked deep within himself. What was he feeling? Well, he was hurting. Nostalgic of the cold nights spent warmly cuddled, feeling the lack of her smile and her quips, the sense of protection she offered him. But the pain wasn't as excruciating as it was earlier. He no longer felt that sensation that the world had come to an end. What the hell happened? Shouldn't he be yelling at the sky, begging for the gods to return his lover to him? He was feeling the pain. But he wasn't feeling enough. He should be devastated, but he wasn't. Carley had died only an hour ago, and even though it still pained him, it was like he had accepted it. The pain was there, but he accepted it. And it felt scary and odd.

Vernon was a huge son of a bitch to him, but he was right. His words resonated in his mind now, more vivid than ever.

_You wanna know the worst part? I don't feel much. I mean, I don't feel enough. __Shouldn't I be broken over what happened to Brie? That's how I was when I lost my daughter. When I lost all of my friends in those first few weeks. But now, it's like I just take something like this in stride. Like this is what our world is now, and we'd better just get used to it._

Lee sighed. _Yeah. This is our world now._

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: Hope you enjoyed my longest chapter yet (10k words)! ****Just a little reminder, the group didn't know up until now that you could camouflage yourself with their smell. Lee and the group escaped Atlanta by driving away in a truck, and Rick and Glenn never had the chance to go loot that gun store, camouflaged with their smell like they did in the beginning of the comics. And Lee never went in Clementine's house, so he didn't know what her parents looked like.**


	55. Leave You

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 55 – LEAVE YOU**

Harlan threw himself on the bedroom floor, his head striking against the ground with a concussant blow and the chair pinning him down. He kicked the door shut, letting out a laugh. The walkers were roaming outside the bedroom, but he was now free. He smiled, imagining Rick's face once his friends announced to him that they had let him escape. He got onto his knees and stood, thinking about his next move. He needed to break the chair. He stood next to the wall, then rapidly pivoted around, the chair striking the wall. The chair shrieked and became wobbly, somewhat pliable. He repeated the same movement, and the third time, the chair dismembered and its limbs crumbled on the ground, splinters hovering around the man.

He still had the rope that restrained him though. He moved around his hands. The destruction of the chair loosened it a bit. He grunted as he squeezed his hands out, his skin burning from the friction. He tossed the restraints aside. _Alright, now what the fuck am I gonna do?_ There wasn't anything in the room that could help him and it was suicide to walk out the door. But there was a window. Harlan peeked through it. It oversaw the backyard, which was limited by a fence and a shed. Myriads of walkers lurked about in the small terrain, while a handful of them were crowded in front of the shed doors, waving their fists at them. Yet, the numbers of zombies below weren't big. He could drop down into the bushes and push through them, hop over the fence, and be on his way. _Good a plan as any._

He elbowed the window, shattering the glass. He climbed onto the windowsill. He hesitated for a second, but told himself that his odds would diminish if he took too long. He dropped onto the bushes. The branches scratched him and struck him like knives. He held back a yell, his whole body sore from the drop. He hurtled onto his feet. The creepy-crawlies were dragging their feet towards him, greeting him vocally with a putrid groan. Harlan lowered his head and shoved his way past them, scaling over the fence and onto the street. Now, he had to get a gun. And he had an idea of where he could get one. He ran around to the front of the mansion, dodging aside walkers like a football player avoiding the enemy team trying to tackle him. He reached the front of the house. One of his gunmen was lying on the sidewalk, its brains splattered all over the bitumen. He clenched his fists, his hatred for the smug sheriff piling up. Rick would pay for it, and his entire group as well. The guy's rifle was still clutched between his hands. He picked up the M14, slung it on his back, and sprinted away.

He was going back to camp.

* * *

Lilly collapsed on the ground, her leg caving in. She groaned, the sticks and pebbles scratching her legs and palms. She gasped for air, her heart beating faster, seeming to become too big to fit in her chest. Daryl reached out to her, but Nate jostled the rope, keeping him locked in place. He glared at his captor, growling like a threatening bulldog. The pain in her leg now constant, pumping through her midsection. She looked at her leg. The night obscured everything, sucking the light away. It was impossible to see if she was bleeding or not. Clint squatted near her. "The fuck's wrong?"

"My leg…God…"

Clint sighed. "Whatever. It's night time, so we better get some shut-eye."

"Think we should do that with these two?" Nate said.

Clint glanced at Daryl. "Don't worry, I'll stay awake all night to make sure our friend Daryl doesn't get the jump on us. He'd love that, wouldn't he?"

Lilly slumped her back against a tree, calming her respiration. She could rest now. But should she sleep so her wound healed, or should she stay awake to bide for an escape opportunity? She would've picked the latter, but the pain and fatigue were overwhelming her, and she knew she would drift away. Clint and Nate sat down against an oak tree, while Daryl remained standing, gazing at them. Clint gestured his pistol next to Lilly. "C'mon, don't play hard. Just do what you're told."

Daryl dropped next to the woman, who had her head hanging against her shoulder and her eyes shut. Daryl and Clint fixated their glares on each other, Clint aiming the handgun towards him. The silence was intense, maybe to the point of there being negative decibels. Just the crickets chirping. Daryl felt the rage consuming him from inside, sizzling excess electricity that accumulated within him, a weight on his body that was vital to let out. He breathed slowly, relieving small doses of the anger. He stayed petrified like a statue, not moving a finger to scratch an itch, his blinking near nonexistent. His eyes were locked to his two captors. He had become some sort of robot, remaining static and lifeless on the outside, despite having his inner circuits overclocking, until the moment would come where he would find an opportunity, and quick as a lightning bolt, he would rip to shreds anyone who stood in his way.

"I know what you're thinking, Daryl." Clint said. "You probably hate my guts. You must be pissed as fuck, like a poked bull, eh? You're just waiting for that key moment, to rip out my throat. Am I right?"

"I'm going to kill you." Daryl said with his gravelly voice, the only thought that seized his mind.

Clint clicked his tongue. "No, you won't."

The entire night unfolded in this stagnant theater-like scene. The two men spitting disdain at each other through their stares.

* * *

"Wake up, sleepy head."

Eye rheum and fatigue hefted Lee's eyelids. Lee rubbed his eyes, opening a crack in them. The blazing sunlight bathed the boxcar, bright as a fire while his pupils were still accustomed to the darkness. He slept with no interruption throughout the night, the fatigue so enormous that he didn't even recall any nightmares coming to torment him. His body was heavy like an anvil thrown into the water. He wasn't ready to get up. He didn't want to and he wasn't sure if he would be able to stand. Flashes of the horrors he witnessed the previous day pierced his mind, almost like an instinct. A bloodied rod. The snap of a gunshot. The growls of the dead. An ear-popping scream. The lethargy was like a tumor that prevented him from moving and his spine ached from the straight, hard wooden floorboards. The cicatrization made his stump feel solid as stone.

"Geez…" Molly said, her lips gnarled as she looked at Lee. His orbits were hollowed out, dark corners around them, his eyeballs glassy.

Lee declined his head to the side. Clementine was still slumbering, curled into a ball. Lee knew he couldn't remain stuck in this state of fossilization, because the more he would dwell on things, the harder it would be for him to get up. He swallowed his saliva, hydrating his sandpaper throat. "Help me get up…?"

Molly set a hand behind his shoulder, and grabbed his palm with the other. She gently hoisted him up. Lee heard his bones crack and wobbled a bit until he steadied himself. He pinched his nose bridge. The sunlight provoked a headache that drilled his brain. The hushed talking coming from the other awakening plebeians and rustling footsteps outside just made the pain pulsate faster. He looked around him. Most of his fellow campers were yawning, leaning their heads on their fists or shutting their eyes and drifting into a three second long microsleep before snapping their eyelids open again.

"Jesus, it seems like you could an aspirin." Molly said. Her posture was straight and she moved her hands while she spoke, her expression smooth and straight. She was lively and seemed well-rested. "Your asshole friend Rick said that everyone should be up in a few minutes. He wants to discuss his plan."

"Worst…wakeup call I've ever had." Lee said.

"Sorry, I tried to be gentle."

"I know. You were. I have to wake up Clementine."

Rick mantled onto the boxcar, Maggie and Glenn hopping on after him. Rick turned to his left. Lee rocked Clementine awake. The group was now standing, heads turned towards their leader. Rick yawned, then cleared his throat. "Alright, I think I have a plan for how we should deal with this. I know we're all tired, but we need to start doing things now."

Clementine sat up, her mouth gaping open in a yawn while she scrubbed her eyes. Lee scanned the wagon. Everyone seemed to be accounted for. Except for a grumpy old man. "Wait, where the hell's Larry?"

Rick looked around the room, verifying his absence. "Who knows and who cares?"

"Actually, Rick, when I woke up this morning, my rifle was gone too. Maybe he-?" Maggie said.

Rick frowned as he pieced two and two. "Oh, shit!"

He fished into his pocket. His visage froze and the punched the wall. "That asshole took my map! He must be on his way to their camp right now, fucking up our plans. And now we don't know anything about the layout of this land or where their camp is."

Travis smiled. "Well, Ben and I do."

Rick smirked towards them. For once, he was thankful that the two teenagers were around. "That's a relief."

"We can take you to their camp." Travis said. "It's situated near a highway, with a dirt road that leads to it. Walking, it's about two hours to get there, another two hours to return. They have barbed wire that runs around the entire camp. It's effective against walkers, but we can cross them pretty easy. There are hills and rivers all around it, so they always enter and exit through the dirt road."

"Now that's good information. Thanks. So here's what I'm thinking. We'll split into two groups, one led by me and the other one led by Lee. My group will be tasked with intercepting the group that shot up the mansion. If they make it back, they'll inform their second-in-command that we aren't open to cooperation and Daryl and Lilly might be executed. Travis said they always enter through the dirt road. We'll wait for them on the highway and ambush them. We'll have to be quick though to get there first. I'll bring Kenny, Glenn, Chuck, Travis and Ben."

The bloodlust ripped a smile in Travis' lips. Ben raised his head in a rapid jolt. An ambush? He wasn't ready for that. He barely knew how to use a gun and he was sure he would faint at the sight of a gory carnage, much less at the thought of killing. He stared towards his friend, begging him with his eyes to find a way to get him out of that situation. But Travis' was staring at Rick, like a soldier listening to his general. Ben hunkered his head, he was just going to have to go.

Kenny folded his arms. The plan didn't seem good to him, that squad of gunmen could be anywhere. "How the hell do we know if they aren't already there? Or if they're still alive at all? They might have been chowed by the walkers in Savannah. Your plan isn't based in a whole lot of certainty."

"I know, but we have to try. We'll wait for at least one day, and after that we'll leave two or three people surveilling if they show up."

"And my group will do what?" Lee asked.

"Wait, are you sure you're ready to be back in action, pal?" Kenny asked, turning to Lee.

"I'm fine, Ken. Let's just get things back on track, okay?" Lee said.

"So, I was saying, you're going to get us supplies." Rick said. "I remember seeing on the map, before that old coot took it, that there's a small town east of here. Maybe an hour away. Head there and bring us back food, water and weapons. You can pick who you take with you once we're done. The rest of you, you'll hold down the fort here at the train."

"Alright. Not a bad plan." Lee said.

Rick smiled at the backup. "Good. It's the best we can afford right now. Now everyone, go gear up, we'll be out in five."

The conglomerate of survivors dispersed around the wagon, tight against each other, reaching for their gear situated on their designated sleeping spaces. Lee nuzzled Clementine's shoulder with his hand while he turned to Molly. "Want to come with me?"

"What kind of question is that? Hell yeah." Molly smiled, checking that her pickaxe was well hung, putting up her hoodie and her medical mask. "Who else are you gonna take?"

"I'm not sure. Andrea, Maggie and Hershel should stay here. They'll be able to protect the group if something happens."

Christa and Omid came up to Lee. Christa glanced at his stump. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

"As well as I can be right now." Lee said. "My arm's still sore, but…it'll heal. It's what I can be thankful for right now."

"So, listen, Christa and I think we should go with you." Omid said.

"Are you sure? You already did a lot for me helping get back Clementine. And I know Christa is walking for two."

The couple exchanged a glance, biting their lips, their eyelids peeled off. Molly frowned and put her hand on her hip. Omid let out a sheepish chuckle. "It's that obvious, eh?"

"I just happen to be astute. And I understand if Christa wants to stay safe."

"Wait…she's…?" Molly said.

"That doesn't mean anything, Lee. We still have to pull our weight around here, we're not just going to sag around and do nothing." Christa said.

"Well, if you insist, I appreciate the support." Lee said. "I'll go get my stuff and I'll meet you in a moment."

Lee turned around and headed towards the corner, where he put his handgun next to Clementine's hat. He squatted down and picked it up, locking his gaze on the lateral black C. This time, Carley wouldn't be around to protect him if a walker crept behind him or if a crazed madman menaced to take his life with a well-aimed bullet. He sighed, tucking it into his belt. Clementine took her hat and planted it on her head, adjusting it in the perfect position. "Well, c'mon Lee, let's go."

"What?" Lee said, raising his head. "I didn't say anything about you coming."

"But I was thinking, maybe if I went with you, we could find some clothes store and I could change my dress." Clementine said, casting her finger towards her maroon garment. "It's really gross, Lee. Plus, I don't want to stay here. I know it might be dangerous and you want me to be safe, but there is no safe place anymore, is there? I'm tired of not doing anything. I want to help."

Lee remained silent, the idea floating in his mind. After what went down in Savannah, it was clear to him that he couldn't shelter her from the world. From the violence, from the killing. If she avoided those things, those things would just find her, one day or the other. He knew that the more she was exposed to the real world, the more hardened she would become. But it was for the best. She needed to condition herself to the new way of living. The walkers were here to stay, and she had to learn to coexist with them. She was a strong girl. "Okay, Clementine. You can come."

* * *

Rick, Glenn, Kenny, Chuck, Travis and Ben jogged through the woods, parallel to the highway. That way, they wouldn't be out in the open and could ambush their enemy easily through the element of surprise. The sticks and dead leaves crunched below their feet, thumping the ground as they advanced forward. The breeze struck their skin, cooling their warm bodies. It was maybe nearly an hour since they left. The sun was shining bright, no clouds hiding its light. Winter was becoming a distant memory, spring weaving in. Rick raised his wide open hand, halting everyone. He panted heavily, his forehead dripping with sweat, wetting his curly hair and making it look like a dead medusa. "Everyone, take five."

"Really think we should stop?" Kenny said.

"Just for one minute. To make sure we're ready."

They sat on the boulders, drawing long breaths and wiping the sweat from their cheeks and foreheads. Kenny and Chuck bore two rifles, while Glenn had a pump shotgun. The Korean man still had those same thoughts bugging him. They were going to ambush their enemies. It was definitely today. He was going to fire a bullet out of the barrel of his shotgun, and someone would be staring down that same barrel. The worst thing was that he had no idea what it would do to him. Would it rid him of humanity? Would it shatter his sanity? Would it deform his dreams? The anxiety swelled his heart, turning it into an unbearable burden.

"Nervous?" Chuck asked.

"Yeah." Glenn said with a quavering breath. "Like always."

"Fear of dying or fear of killing?"

"Both. Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Aye. But it was before. I served in 'Nam, y'know. Most of the times, it was up close and personal. But sometimes, the other army was far away. One of the particularities about that is that it was impossible to know if you had killed someone or not. Because when you're shooting at an enemy line that's a quarter mile away, you have no idea where your bullets hit. But, hell…it made it easier to pull the trigger."

Kenny kept his eyes peeled to their environs. Rick verified his equipment was in check. His knife was buckled and his revolver firm within the holster, yet prepared for a quick pull out. He approached the two teens. "When the firefight starts, you guys hang back. We don't have any weapons for you, plus we need you alive."

Ben sighed audibly, drying his sweaty palms against his trousers. At least he would remain in safety and he wouldn't have to kill anyone. Travis flicked his eyes over the sheriff's knife. "Can I have your knife for just a second?"

"Why?"

Travis picked up a straight stick from the ground, the length of his forearm. "One thing Harlan was always saying. When you don't have a weapon, you make one."

Rick jerked his head sideways and gave him the knife. Travis started sharpening the stick, flaying the bark and molding a sharp tip at the end. Rick sat next to them. "You're thrilled, ain't you?"

Travis didn't budge. But to Rick, silence was an affirmative reply. Rick shook his head. "Don't go down this path. I know what you're thinking. What you were thinking when you tried to cut up Harlan. You think killing them will bring you closure and relief, satiate your thirst for blood and justice. But it won't. After you'll have driven a bullet through the people you've sworn vengeance on, you'll look back and wonder what kind of person you became."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Travis said, struggling not to scream in the man's face. "That I should forgive and forget?! I should let people like Harlan live?!"

"No, absolutely not. But if bloodthirst is the only thing you think about, the only thing that drives you, you're driving down the lane to getting yourself killed. And I'm not necessarily talking about dying on the outside."

"Why the hell are you telling me this? I didn't ask for advice." Travis said, an angered frown above his eyes, running his finger down the tip of his sharpened stick and giving it to Ben. He took another stick and started flaying it as well.

"I just want to prevent you from doing the same mistakes I did."

"Then tell me something. If your friends weren't with Harlan's group, would you let things lie after he killed two of yours? Would you chase after him or would you just get as far away as possible?"

It was now Rick who remained silent. Even he didn't quite know the answer.

"Ha. I thought so." Travis said.

A growl reached their ears. They sprang onto their feet, converging into a circle, their weapons half-raised, each one of them staring in one direction. They narrowed their gaze, searching for any movement amidst the vegetation, trying to pinpoint the source of the rustling. The walker came into view, stumbling towards them. He was wearing military body armor, along with a helmet with a visor stained with blood.

"Where the fuck does this ugly bastard come from?" Kenny said.

"I don't know." Rick said while Travis returned him his knife. "Let's take him out. We have to be careful. His neck area is the only part of its body that isn't covered. Kenny and Chuck, go around him and distract him. I'll knock him down and finish him."

Chuck and Kenny circulated around the undead man, the three of them forming a triangle around it. The walker slowed down, its gaze switching back and forth between the three humans, indecisive on who would make the better meal. Chuck whistled. When it turned its head around towards the homeless man, Rick tackled it and drove the knife through his lower jaw. The moaning went silent and its body went limp. Rick pulled out the knife, shaking off the thick blood. "We could probably use some of his equipment."

Rick investigated the belt. The pistol holster was empty, but there was a cylindrical smoke grenade. He snatched it and tucked it in the back of his trousers, then strapped off its Kevlar vest. He slid it up through its head and eyed each of his team members. Who should he give it to? _Kenny and Chuck have common sense and will hold their ground. Travis and Ben will be out of the battle._ He tossed it to Glenn. "Put it on."

"Why me?"

"Because."

Glenn slid on the Kevlar vest, strapping it on. He looked down at the new equipment that made him appear more buff that he really was. He tapped on the vest. It was quite rigid. He imagined that getting hit with a bullet would still be an excruciating pain, but at least he would have a second chance. It gave him a sense of increased safety.

"Think there might be some military base around here?" Chuck asked.

"Not sure." Rick said. "But we have to keep moving. Let's keep on going."

* * *

Lee, Clementine, Christa, Omid, and Molly stood atop a hill, which overlooked the town. Contrary to Savannah, it was just a rural, small community. The green landscapes, sturdy trees and flourishing gardens were more dominant in the panorama than the brick buildings, which weren't any taller than two-stories. The streets were deserted, aside from a few walkers that roamed in loneliness. Most of the lurkers must have been drawn to the locomotive sound and went into Savannah. Apart from being a ghost town and most of the windows being shattered to pieces, revealing the stores' vacant shelves, it didn't look too apocalyptic. Omid, the only one to possess a rifle, looked down the scope, then passed it to Christa. "Take a look."

Christa peeped through the scope. "Holy crap, there's a music store over there."

"We'll swing by it at the end, if we can." Lee smiled, taking the rifle. He lifted it with one hand, and stabilized it with his stump.

"Need me to hold the rifle for you?" Omid asked.

"No, I'm fine, thank you." Lee said. "There's a clothes store…I think Clementine would like go there."

"Ahem." Clementine nodded.

"Also grocery stores, pharmacies…but most seem ransacked though."

"There's always something." Molly said.

"Not a lot of good places to get guns or weapons." Lee said.

"So how do we play this? Split into two groups so we go faster?" Omid asked.

"Hell, no." Lee said. "With the hordes and the Living out there, we oughta stick together. We'll just have to go fast."

"Where will we go first?" Clementine asked.

"Let's go find food first." Lee said. "It's our priority."

They sauntered down the slope with caution. Lee turned to Clementine. "Remember gun practice?"

"Yeah." Clementine said.

"What else did I teach you?"

"Shoot the head, except if it's not a walker. Keep my hair tucked in. Don't make too much noise. Do everything you say when you say it. Always stick close to you."

Lee nodded with a smirk. "That's it. Atta girl."

* * *

"Alright, we're here."

Rick and the others got down onto a crouching stance. The highway was visible amongst the trees, the dirt road diverging to the side. The foliage and trees camouflaged them. It was the perfect spot for an ambush. Rick sat on the ground. "So, now we wait."

Time passed. The sun made its slow circumnavigation around the globe and the clouds glided from one place to the other like sailing ships. Crows and Eurasian-jays flew over their heads, singing a melody that sounded peaceful. Without the intrusion of humans, animals and insects must have been thriving better than ever. Chuck stared towards the highway, clogged with wrecked cars that stretched for miles. Travis laid on the ground, counting each bird he saw. Rick checked his watch every five minutes. Kenny often sighed, palpating his fingers against the grass. Glenn yawned, cracking his knuckles. Still no sign of them.

"I'm starting to think this plan is shit." Travis said.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't half-agree." Rick said.

The sun was descending behind the distant mountains, dimming the daylight. Rick guessed it was maybe six, seven o'clock. Footsteps echoed in the highway. They got up, weapons firm in their hands, taking a peek ahead, awakening them from their stasis trance. Glenn tapped his fingers against his shotgun's pump, the anxiety now choking him, jamming his airways. Travis gazed at the four gunmen like a hunter about to attack its prey. Rick reached for his smoke grenade. "I'm gonna throw this, it'll make it impossible for them to see us. We get in close as much as possible, we can take cover behind the wrecked cars. And we take them out."

Rick pulled the pin and tossed the grenade. The projectile landed among the four men, who spun their heads towards the object. Before they could dive away or holler, the grenade erupted with a bang, a thick and large cloud of smoke engulfing the gunmen like a magician's trick. They rushed out of the forest. Rick, Chuck and Kenny fired towards the smoke, hardly discerning the silhouettes of the men who were coughing and yelling orders to each other. Glenn had his finger stiffened. He didn't see where they were. Somehow, not seeing them, made him hesitate less. He squeezed the trigger, spitting lead pellets at their enemy, aiming slightly away to increase his chances of missing.

The gunmen replied with blind fire, forcing them to take cover behind an abandoned sedan. They exchanged bullets back and forth, the smoke dissipating. Two of them were laying on the concrete, their torsos torn apart with bullet wounds gushing blood, their shocked expressions frozen on their faces. There was only one guy, hiding behind a SUV. When he leaned out of cover, Rick stood up fast as an arrow, and shot him in the head. The bullet penetrated through its skull, the blood cascading out of the back of its head. The final gunshot waved through the air, dissolving into the atmosphere, leaving the battlefront quiet, just the wind blowing by. Rick, Chuck and Kenny walked over the bodies, taking their rifles and ammunition, while Glenn took a seat on the sedan's hood and let out a deep exhale. Rick looked behind the SUV. There was only one dead guy. _Wait, where's the fourth one? _The bastard used the smoke trick against them and used it to escape, and he could be anywhere. "Watch out, the fourth guy's missing!"

* * *

Travis and Ben listened to the deafening firefight, a macabre soundtrack of agonized screams, barking guns and bullets ricocheting off cars. Travis sometimes raised his head to take a peek, but Ben tugged him down and told him not to do anything dangerous. Travis shook his head. He should be with the others there, but no, he was reduced to hiding behind a tree. _Fuck this. _He got up in a sudden move, taking a step towards the highway. He didn't get far as a solid mass of force tackled him onto the ground, pinning him down. He winced and looked up at the man sitting on top of his stomach. Don, one of Harlan's lackeys. "You motherfucking traitor!"

Don took a pistol from his belt. The teenager grasped the barrel with sweaty hands and kept it aimed away. However he was a scrawny teen and Don was a heavy pile-driver. The pistol was slowly coming down on his forehead, and soon Travis wouldn't be able to keep it away. Ben watched the battle from behind a tree, every inch of his body frozen. His knees buckled. He had to do something. His friend was going to die. And he couldn't live with himself if he allowed him to perish. _Quick, Ben, a weapon! _His sharpened stick. He took it out and gripped it with a tight hand. The adrenaline tensed up his muscles, his heart racing and his breaths coming in and out quickly. But he still wasn't moving. He still wasn't doing anything. _Ben, c'mon, do something! _It was like his body was dissociated from his mind, and he had to convince himself to do it. To kill. To save his friend. To stop being a shit bird, to stop being a useless shit-for-brains.

_Do it! Do it! Do it, Ben! What the heck are you waiting for?! Do it! Just do it! Just do it, Ben! JUST FUCKING DO IT, BEN!_ **[A/N: Eat a Snickers, Ben. You act like Shia LaBoeuf when you're hungry SO SORRY FOR THIS AMAZING JOKE I KNOW THIS IS A SERIOUS SCENE KILL ME!]**

Ben released a high-pitched war cry and darted towards the gunman. He drove the shiv into the man's side, not slowing down and tumbling on the ground, his lips splattered with dirt. Don howled, lifting his head up and his arms stiffing. Ben breathed heavily, uncertain of what had happened, still processing what he had done. Don bent forward and fell to the side with a humid thump onto the moistened grass, the pistol stuck between his fingers, his jaw hanging open, emitting a silent scream. Travis turned to Ben. He was laying on the grass, his hands sprayed with blood and tears sliding down his cheeks, his eyes staring into a blank point in the distance. Travis got up and lent him a hand. "Thanks, man. You did the right thing."

Ben took his hand with a feeble grip and hoisted himself up, his legs shaky. Rick, Glenn, Chuck and Kenny ran back up the hill, piecing the scene together. Don with a wooden shiv sticking out of his abdomen, Ben with blood in his hands. Ben pivoted towards them, his gaze falling upon Kenny. The older man gave him a narrowed look and a firm nod. Rick and Glenn scratched their hair, not knowing what to say. Rick picked up Don's rifle and hatchet, and they hiked back home. Had today been a victory or an internal defeat? Rick could not determine. Glenn wondered how the teenager felt. He seemed broken on the inside. He kept his eyes to the ground, a shiver running down his spine.

"Tell me, son…did you kill anyone today?" Chuck asked.

Glenn shook his head. "I…I don't know…I didn't see anything…"

Chuck patted his shoulder, Rick leading their trip back home and they just let themselves be taken away by the current. Travis glimpsed at his friend with a frown. Ben was like a zombie, dragging his feet after one another, his head hidden between his shoulders and sometimes a moan escaping through his lips. His eyes were redden from his tears. Ben looked down at his hands, dredged with crimson blood. His hands started to tremble and he wiped the blood on his sleeves. The blood had coagulated and was glued to his skin. He groaned from the frustration and scrubbed harder. The frustration turned into sorrow and weakened him. He lost all strengths and crumbled onto his knees, making the group stop. The tears streamed down his cheeks. Travis crouched next to him, setting a hand on his shoulder, while the group just listened to his hiccups, sniffles and the wails of his sobbing.

* * *

Lee and Molly waited outside the dressing room. After doing the sweep of the neighborhood, they made their final stop at the clothes store. The hunt hadn't been too disappointing. It was mostly thanks to Molly, who found a lot of items fallen underneath shelves, hidden in corners or below furniture. Not to mention that their encounters with walkers had been scarce, maybe due to the low population density of the village. The disadvantage was that their group was just too big, and even if they found a plethora of food, it wouldn't last long if divided amongst everyone. The proof was there. If they rationed their scavenged food to the extreme, it would last for two weeks for a small group, but for their group it would only last about three days. Christa had fetched a brand new guitar for Chuck, and the couple was taking a look around in the store since they had the chance.

Now that Lee had nothing to occupy himself, thoughts of Carley popped back into his mind once more. _You're small. _He grinned to himself, thinking back to that awful joke he made. He felt a morsel of guilt at that innocent chuckle, but he told himself it wasn't justified. Not all moments that he spent with her were grim. He had to hold on to those memories, especially the good ones.

"Can I ask you something, Lee?" Molly asked.

The nostalgic thoughts melted away. "Yeah?"

"What's up with you and Rick? I can't see how someone like you can be friends with him."

"It's hard to understand. But Rick has been there from the start. Before all this, I got stabbed by a guy on the street, and I was in a coma. When I woke up in the hospital, when everything had already gone to shit, he was there. We've been through everything since the start. We understand each other in ways that…sometimes other people can't. But trust me, Rick will warm up to you. He treats his people like his family. And he's a good man. One day, you'll see."

"Just asking, because yesterday the guy knew how to be a dickhead."

Lee chuckled. "Occasionally, he acts the same way towards me. We've also had our hostilities, you know. But at this point…I think we both know that bickering with each other is useless. And he has a lot of pressure on him. Whenever something bad happens, people never hesitate at beaming their finger at him. He's got a son and wife, plus another child on the way."

Molly widened her eyelids with a half-smile. "Jesus, are you trying to repopulate the earth or what?"

Lee shrugged, turning to the dressing room. "Clementine, you alright in there?"

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." Clementine said.

"Looks like she's taking her time at picking the perfect outfit." Lee said with a smirk.

"Yeah, you know, at least she can take a break from all this madness." Molly simpered. "Just do girl's stuff for once."

"And bore the hell out of me." Lee said, jokingly rolling his eyes.

"You've clearly never gone clothes shopping with a lady. I was never that kind of girl, but my sister…God, she would drag me into these stores and try everything, it would last an eternity."

"I never imagined you as a fashion aficionado anyway." Lee said. "You settling in okay in the group?"

Molly folded her arms, shrugging. "Kind of. Everyone's still kind of stranger to me. But I did talk with that woman, Andrea. We, uh, hit it off, I think. She told me about her sister."

Molly flicked her gaze throughout the store, falling upon Christa and Omid, who were talking in the opposite side of the shop. "What about those two? They've also got a kid coming?"

"Yeah. They haven't told anyone, but…I've noticed. Kenny as well, I think."

"Yeah, well, good for them. If this was Crawford…"

The dressing room's curtain flung open. Clementine looked down at her garments, making sure everything fit her. Her beat-up and disgusting dress was gone, and now she was wearing jeans, a lilac shirt and All-Stars sneakers. And the cherry of top of the cake, her purple D hat on her head, still sprinkled with Lee's crusted blood. Molly raised an eyebrow. "Wow, Clementine now looks all cool and slick."

"Like your clothes?" Lee asked.

"Yeah, they fit good and everything." Clementine said.

"Well, then, I suppose we oughta go ahead and return." Lee said, looking out the window. It was maybe one, two hours away from sunset. "Rick and the others might've come back by now."

* * *

"We're almost there." Clint said.

Lilly yawned. At sun-up, Clint and Nate had once more forced them on their feet and kept on marching. They made their way through a highway, and now they were detouring through a dirt road. Her leg was still sore, but not as intensely as last night. She steered to her right, approaching Daryl. "Got any ideas?"

"Nah. Keep looking." Daryl said.

Lilly nodded and kept on limping mindlessly, listening to the brays of gravel in each footstep. Sometimes, the efforts from the travel got to her and she started feeling light-headed and dizzy, hot sweats coursing down her body yet her skin felt cold to the touch. She wasn't sure how much blood she had lost, but it was fine for now. However the cloth that stanched her bleeding was now dark and dirty, and she worried about a possible infection. God, the things she would do to just be able to lay in a bed and get a good night's sleep. She wondered how her dad was. _I hope he's okay. _She knew how protective he was and just hoped he wasn't doing anything rash. _Please, dad, please be taking your pills at the right times._

The camp emerged in the horizon. It was a vast tent city, with its perimeter marked by three long lines of barbed wire that were attached to the trees. The enclosed community prospered with people ambling inside, and the whole borderline had men with rifles in their hands, surveilling each side, somewhat reminding Lilly of the heavy security there was in the military base she worked at. Two cars butted against each other formed a pair of gates at the front, with two men standing behind them. Daryl cursed under his breath. He thought he would've been able to escape before they reached the camp. He darted his eyes in all directions, scrutinizing each detail that peaked his interest. How tightly their captors were grabbing the ropes, how many steps it would take for him to reach the trees, how the density of the forest would stop any bullets from hitting him. Lilly felt a bizarre sensation plaguing her. Like if someone was watching her. She looked around her, narrowing her eyes as she inspected the treeline. Nothing. Then, within the forest, she saw two birds, who were hidden in the leaves of a tree, fly away, their cries ringing through the air.

"Diaz, Tyler, open the gates!" Clint shouted.

Diaz, a man with tanned skin, and Tyler, a guy with a military hat, shoved the cars open for them. As Clint and Nate strolled into the camp with the prisoners behind them, the populace's gaze fell upon them, like two deformed freaks had entered in their living space. Daryl kept his chin up, eyeing each of the passersby, picturing what he would do to them once he was unshackled with a knife or crossbow in his hands. Their days were numbered. Lilly kept her gaze attached to the dirt.

Nate looked at Clint. "Damn, it sure feels good-"

The distant roar of a gunshot perforated their ears. The invisible projectile drilled through Nate's forehead and propelled him to the ground. Clint and the gunmen bent their knees, their heads revolving in all directions, sliding behind crates or tents, their trigger fingers ready once the sniper fired a second shot and revealed its position. Clint stared at the dead body of Nate, with a creek of blood spilling out of a hole in his temple. Daryl kicked Clint to the ground and grasped Lilly by the wrist. "C'mon, this our fucking chance!"

Clint blinked and spat the dust away from his face, raising his chest and aiming his pistol at the two captives. Before he pulled the trigger, a second gunshot landed next to his leg. He retracted his limbs back and crawled behind a few crates. He looked back towards the forest, pinpointing the source of the gunfire. Another gunshot echoed, striking the crates that protected him. This time, the muzzle flash shone bright within the trees. The gunmen sprayed an array of bullets towards the sniper's position at the same time, the simultaneous combustion of gunpowder drumming their ears, the bullet cartridges tinkling as they fell to the ground.

Lilly and Daryl sprinted into the forest, ducking underneath the barrier of barbed wire. Clint clenched his fist, seeing them vanish into the foliage. "Diaz, go after them! I'll handle the sniper!"

Diaz nodded and ran for the trees, rolling underneath the barbed wire. Clint peeked over the crates, analyzing the distance from his spot to the trees. "Everybody, I'm going for it! Cover my ass!"

Clint dashed into the forest, his comrades' fire making sure that he stayed protected. He entered the forest, feeling at ease. Now he just had to find the sniper.

* * *

Daryl galloped through the woods and Lilly limped as fast as she could, barely keeping up. They got rid of their restraints as they ran, untying the knot and sliding them out their hands. The adrenaline kept them moving, as if a lion was chasing after them, dodging low branches, felled logs and boulders. The sticks and leaves cracked beneath their feet. Footsteps rustled far behind them. They were being chased after. They couldn't stop for anything. A gunshot blared amid the trees, splintering the bark of a tree next to Daryl. He shielded his face but didn't slow down. Lilly bit her lip, the pain in her leg spiking her whenever she put it down. When another gunshot barked behind them, her leg exploded with pain that was injected throughout her body, making her collapse on the ground. Dammit, she'd been shot. She laid on the ground, the dry grass getting stuck in her hair and the leaves pricking her. Daryl came to a halt like a braking vehicle.

"Just go!" Lilly shouted.

Daryl glanced between her and the dense forest that stretched beyond the camp. His legs remained whist. Why wasn't he bolting out of there? Back in his drifter days with Merle, whenever the two of them and their crew robbed a liquor store blind, they had one golden rule. If they didn't keep up, they got left behind. It was the story of his life, not giving a shit about anyone since nobody ever gave a shit about him. But some kind of chain kept him there and stopped him from going. He didn't know why. But he was going to stay. He looked to his side. Diaz was already visible as he approached them. Daryl kneeled near her and put pressure on her wound. She groaned, looking at him with teary eyes. "Why?"

"Maybe I'm stupid." Daryl said. "But ain't gonna leave you."

Diaz beamed his rifle at them, catching up to them. Daryl shut his eyes for a second, frustrated that they got caught. "Looks like I got you. Making me run through the woods…man, you know what? I just noticed how lucky I am. You two motherfuckers are the cause of a lot of friends' deaths, and now it's just us. I think you deserve a little punishment. Step away from her, redneck."

Daryl invested towards the man with a groan, but Diaz bashed him in the head, sending him to sprawl on the ground, disoriented, with his ears ringing and his skull hurting. Lilly clawed away, but Diaz pressed her down with his foot on top of her ankle, while he unbuckled his belt. "Just a quick one, dear, don't get too wild."

Daryl blinked several times, his vision blurry, deforming shapes like a kaleidoscope. He heard the woman's muffled moans while Diaz snickered down at her. Daryl moved his arm to get up. Diaz snapped his head towards him and fired a bullet into his calf. No sream escaped through Daryl's throat, just a strangled growl as he clutched a rock that was on the ground until his fingers were white. Diaz set the rifle aside. Then, the slurred figure of a man appeared within the forest, walking towards Daryl. The slender figure of a countryside hooligan, with a mocking grin going from ear to ear. Daryl sighed. _Not again. _

It was Merle fucking Dixon.

"My, my, little brother, rolling in the dirt again?" Merle said, his voice distorted and distant. "Ain't you gonna save that damsel in distress, son? Hell, I thought you'd become some kind of pansy-ass knight in shinin' armor. Didn't ya? So, c'mon now. Get up! Even if you can't reach for that hillbilly's rifle…then use your fangs, pussycat."

Daryl blinked away the hallucination, the sight of the blue sky and trees coming into focus. He didn't want to admit it, but his brother was right. As always. Even if it wasn't actually his brother. Diaz would see if he got up or if he reached for his rifle.. It was time to play dirty.

He got onto a kneeling stance, then used both hands to throw dirt and the rock onto Diaz's face. The dirt stung his eyes, blinding him, and the rock made him stagger back, away from the rifle. Daryl dashed towards the man and seized his head, then dug his fingers into his eyeballs. Diaz hollered, spooking away the nearby birds, his arms flailing in pained spasms, but Daryl just thrust his thumbs deeper, the blood erupting from his orbits and soaking his fingers. Lilly glanced at the horrific scene, then shifted her gaze elsewhere, her stomach repulsed. Daryl hurled the man onto the grass, who rolled around while clamping his bleeding eyes, whimpering like a hurt animal. Daryl picked up his rifle and spat on him. "Not so tough now, are you?"

He finished the man off, firing a bullet into his skull. The man's arms drooped to the side and his terrified scream was cut in half. Daryl rubbed off the blood in his thumps against his wing-vest and wiped some of it on his cheek, licking his lips. Then, he lent Lilly a hand. "Let's get out of here."

Lilly grabbed his hand and hoisted herself up. Lilly avoided his gaze. What he did was justified, but damn, he was so brutal. Just as they thought they were in the clear, the cock of an M14 clanked behind them.

"Not so fucking fast."

They turned around, their lips twitching. Harlan stood there, aiming his rifle at them, with his wide smile. "I think I'd like you guys to extend your visit."

Harlan looked at Diaz. "Damn, you did a number on him. I'll be honest, me and him, we never really saw 'eye to eye', but still…it's going in your charges when you're condemned. Looks like poor Diaz really didn't 'see that one coming.'"

Harlan released a laugh, while Daryl and Lilly stayed stoic.

"Oh, c'mon, that was pure comical genius."

* * *

Larry yanked the bolt of his rifle once more, emptying the barrel of the cartridge and loading another bullet. He looked down the scope again, aiming between the several men who hid behind cover, scanning the treeline for him with their guns ready to fire. He raised the rifle a bit. Lilly had broken free and was retreating into the forest, along with that redneck who at least wasn't worthless and could maybe protect her. Out of the corner of the scope, he saw Clint aim his handgun towards them. He directed his rifle towards him quick as a bolt, squeezing the trigger in an instinct, but the fast and disastrous aiming motion made him miss his shot. He fired another sloppy shot, and missed again. But it stopped Clint from shooting, which was more important.

A tsunami of bullets swarmed him as his position was now revealed. He crawled back behind a tree. He had to wait until they reloaded to fire back. The tree trunks around him were being pierced by bullets, and he kept his body as small as possible. Then, he heard a rustle in the forest. He brandished the rifle, cursing under his breath. Someone must've chased after him. And his sniper rifle wasn't designed for close quarters, it was hard to aim with the scope hiding the notch. He spotted a fragment of a leg sticking out from behind a tree. He fired. The bullet landed on the tree and the leg retracted into the tree. He pressed the trigger again.

Click.

"Shit." Larry said.

Clint left his cover and bum-rushed the old man, sending both of them to the ground. Clint punched his face, stunning him for a few seconds. But his punches were just taps on his bulky physique. He grasped the man's vest and tossed him off of him. He got up, wiping the blood from a crack in his lip. Clint was on the ground, using his legs to push himself away from the old man, whose rage was leading his hefty footsteps. Larry was going to stomp the motherfucker's throat and watch him suffocate.

Clint whipped out a handgun from his belt and shot Larry in the knee. Larry collapsed on the ground, a yell escaping his lips as he clutched his knee. Clint got up and towered above the man, the pistol aimed at his head with a grin. "Well, tables have turned, eh?"

"I'm gonna…tear you to shreds…motherfucker…!" Larry barked.

Larry tried to seize his ankles to flip him over, but Clint fired a bullet into his shoulder. Larry fell back, holding back the screams as he covered each of his wounds with each of his hands. Clint turned the pistol towards his head once more. "Give it up, old man. Your time has come."

Larry dropped his head to the side, staring into the distance. Dammit, he was going to die like a weasel. He couldn't believe this is what fate had in store for him. Well, fuck it. At least he saved his daughter. And she was all that mattered. She was what always mattered. Not him, who was just an old decaying sack. "Lilly…"

Larry saw a bright flash out of the corner of his eye and heard a mechanical snarl that was cut in half, before everything went dark and he was sent to the void of death.

* * *

Night had arrived, sinking the world deep in a dark black ocean. After Lee and Rick had returned to the train with their respective groups, they had lit a bonfire and sat around it, reminiscing some of them of the nights in Atlanta. Christa, Omid and Molly had their backpacks zipped open, passing around cereal bars, water and juice bottles and canned fruit or meat. The fire kept them warm from the freezing nightly breeze. Everyone was digging into their food, an occasional chuckle being heard from the joy of there being food to pass around.

"You really did a good job. Thanks, Molly." Andrea said with a smile as she and Dale shared a few granola bars.

"You're welcome." Molly said.

Her gaze crossed Rick's and two fixated each other. His expression was blank, but it wasn't unsympathetic like last night. It was progress. Maybe. Lee peeked into Omid's backpack. There were two recipients of baby milk powder, a baby bottle and a book about pregnancy and parenting. Omid looked at him, following his gaze to his pack's contents. "Yeah, I just thought…I'd be prepared, you know?"

"Of course." Lee smiled. "Better safe than sorry."

Ben was still in the same demeanor after his breakdown, his head pleated into his chest. Travis stretched him a can of ravioli with a frown. "C'mon, Ben…you gotta eat something. Ravioli's your favorite."

Ben stayed silent, reactionless. Travis sighed and set aside the can, eating his own can of meat.

"Hey, Chuck, we found this while scavenging." Christa said, giving the man the new acoustic guitar.

"Well, I'll be damned." Chuck said with a grin.

Chuck tuned the cords, adjusting to the new instrument, and started strumming a song. The unnerving silence of the night was replaced by a cheery melody, soothing everyone. Lee and Clementine glanced at each other with a flashing smile. Maybe they were going through hell. But it didn't mean they couldn't have a moment of joy. A moment of living. Rick wrapped his arm around Lori and massaged her shoulder, his son sitting next to him.

"Also, Lee…" Rick said, reaching into his belt. "I noticed you no longer have your hatchet."

He took out a hatchet and gave it to him. Lee thanked with a nod, then looked at the weapon. And it wasn't just any weapon. He had seen it before.

It was the hatchet with the blue handgrip.

He shook his head and stored it in his belt.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: In case you didn't notice, Clementine's now wearing her Season 2 outfit. Also, I've decided that since this story is going to be rather long, I want to keep the chapter count as little as possible so from now on, I'll be making my best at delivering chapters with 6k words, minimum. It's something I wished I would've done earlier since the earlier chapters were about 2k words.**

**I also enjoyed writing this chapter a lot, it allowed for a lot of character development and allowed me to set up and think of several character dynamics for the future.**


	56. Hangmen And Gallows

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**CHAPTER 56 – HANGMEN AND GALLOWS**

**AUTHOR NOTE: Well, here's yet another chapter for you! It was a bit delayed because, for some reason, I just couldn't get things right and I was really blocked, and I hesitated between several approaches to the story. I'm a bit chicken uploading this chapter because I'm not sure if it came out just right. Not to mention that I lost my files! I had a backup, thankfully, but lost this chapter and the next one, so I had to rewrite a lot of stuff. Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

Daryl tugged the rope. It was tight, he could barely move his wrists. Once again, they were in shackles. They were inside a spacious tent, the morning sunlight glittering between the tissue of the walls, each corner of the tent held up by a wooden beam. The two of them were chained to opposite beams. Lilly's breaths hissed between her teeth. She had been shot near her previous wound and the pain was now persistent. All she could feel was her leg drenched with blood, her soaked trousers bringing her discomfort, the dull pain boiling around her wounds and poking her solar plexus. She had to stop the bleeding. She folded her injured leg, wincing as her wound scraped against the gravel, then stretched her good leg over the bullet hole, pressing it down against it. Her heart tightened, forcing an exhale out of her mouth, leaving her panting, spikes of pain rising up to her chest. But if it could stanch it, then the pain was for the better. Daryl heard muffled chatters coming from outside, from the men greeting Harlan who had made his comeback. How could they have been caught? They were so close to freedom, yet so far away. He was ashamed to admit that he had been captured in such a stupid way. He examined the beam and the rope, searching with a microscopic vision any detail that could lead them to freeing themselves.

"Dammit, rope's tight. Can't lift the beam, can't untie the knot." Daryl said.

Lilly moved her tongue around her dry mouth, the pain clouding and stirring her emotions. "This is all your fault…I told you to go…!"

Daryl snorted, shaking his head in disapproval towards the woman. "Hell, the way you complainin', maybe I should've left you! You even know what he was gon' do to you?!"

Lilly lowered her gaze, sniffling and holding back a tear. Everything was lost. She was never going to see her father again and they were going to die at the mercy of those fuckers. It was uncertain if their group would be coming back for them. They didn't know where they were and they could easily get over the pair of them. "Whatever. We're not getting out of here. Just face it. We had our shot and we blew it."

"Nah, that ain't true." Daryl said, as he rubbed the rope against the wooden beam. Maybe it could weaken the restraints. "We can't give up, they ain't won yet. We gon' get outta here. Remember when I told you 'bout that time I got lost in the woods for nine days?"

A chuckle escaped through Lilly's lips out of desperation. "Hmm. Poison oak to wipe your ass."

"Yeah, well, if I'd given up, I'd still be in those woods, getting ass rashes 'til the day I kicked the bucket." Daryl said, shooting her a fiery gaze. "That's why we're getting out of here."

* * *

The firefight had gone silent and things were returning to normal. Two men were dragging Nate out of the camp to toss him into a corner of the woods, leaving behind a trail of blood dripping from his occiput. The gunmen departed to their former posts of surveilling the perimeter or hauling supplies from one place to the other or refueling the few cars and pickup trucks they had with jerricans full of gasoline. When Harlan strolled into the camp, everyone halted their tasks, turning their heads towards him with widened eyes, but he told them with a smile to proceed what they were doing since the work day never ends. He didn't want to interrupt the camp's flow but he knew people were going to be coming to him for answers. As Harlan looked around the tent city, making sure everything was in check, he saw Clint sauntering down a slope. Harlan walked up to him and the two men exchanged a firm handshake.

"Harlan." Clint said.

"Clint motherfucking Eastwood." Harlan grinned.

Clint glimpsed over his bruises, cuts and his torn shirt. "Geez, what the hell they do to you?"

"Please, this ain't nothing. Don't get your panties in a bunch." Harlan said, putting his hands in his hips and looking around. "What the hell happened here? I heard a bunch of gunfire."

"A sniper, took care of him. Managed to take out Nate though."

Harlan eyed the crossbow slung on his back. "Gee, where'd you get that beauty?"

"Asshole I captured had it. The one you caught. But, I gotta know, what are we going to do now?"

"Right now? Well, we're gonna get the house in order. How's our supply situation?"

"Low, we had so many men in Savannah that we couldn't afford going on supply hunts. Food's the most concerning issue right now."

"Well, that's one thing we have to sort out immediately."

"But what about the sheriff? What about-?"

"Clint, everything is going to be sorted out. After we return, I will explain to the entire group what we are going to do."

Harlan turned to two men, sitting on two crates near them. Perkins, a guy with a scar on his cheek and Tyler, who had been relieved by another guard from his task of watching the gates. Perkins sharpened his knife against a rock while Tyler loaded his rifle with a clip. Next to the crates, there were two spears made of branches leaning against them. Harlan picked up the spears, throwing one at Clint. "So, boys, I got a job for you."

"Wait, what happened to Diaz?" Tyler asked.

"He's dead." Harlan said, making Tyler release a sigh. "So, the group is in need of some grub, so you gotta go out there and hunt something. Clint and I are gonna go forage and fish."

"Of course, but what about the guys who-?" Perkins said.

"You're not the first to ask, I will explain to everyone after we return." Harlan said.

The two men nodded, standing up and hanging their rifles over their shoulders. Harlan turned around and headed towards the woods with Clint, where they knew a river streamed. They ducked under the barbed wire fence and they were embraced by nature, their lungs filling with fresh air and the birds chirping away in the trees. The path to the river was visible in their minds, just a straight ten minute walk. Harlan stopped in front of a few bushes, with both red and black berries. He took the black ones and put them in this pocket, tossing a berry to his friend. The two men chewed on the fruit, their faces contorting at the strong acidic yet sweet flavor. Maybe it wasn't much but they had to get everything edible they could find. Harlan got up and they resumed their march. "Damn, this feels nice. Life is back to its roots. It's just men and nature."

Clint shrugged. "It's…nice, I guess."

"You think otherwise?"

"Nah, it's just…surviving is kind of my only focus. I don't really think about the world that much."

"Ah, I see. I get it. It's a tough world, right? A lot of people think of the apocalypse like it's some kind of doomsday but I think it's more of a…step back, you know? To how life used to be, what it was meant to be. We got rid of all the useless shit – industry, modernization – and we live the life we were meant to have."

Clint mumbled, showing no reaction in his face, the man's words entering and exiting his ears. "Shouldn't you be at camp maybe? We should do this kind of stuff while you organize things at camp. People want answers. They want payback. I mean, you're our leader."

Harlan snorted. "Is that what a leader is to you? I fucking hate bureaucracy. Before, maybe leaders sat upon their thrones and barked orders everywhere, but that's not how things get done. Yeah, I'm your leader, but we're all on the same level here. There ain't no social classes. We all do the same tasks, we all pull our weight. It's our camp."

"Okay, if you say so."

The river came into view, the splashing of flowing water pleasing their ears. "We're here. C'mon, let's go catch something."

* * *

Harlan and Clint smiled as entered the camp, each one of them with a herring in their hand. Things were going like when they had left. Perkins and Tyler were already there, their hands empty. Harlan's lips curved and approached them with a frown. "Didn't caught anything?"

"Nah, the woods' deserted." Tyler said.

Harlan shook his head. "Well, we caught some fish. I'll get 'em cooking for supper."

Harlan looked around him, searching for someone who could do the task. His head locked in place, a bitter dose of anger being pumped in his veins. He saw two women standing next to their tent, chitchatting and not doing anything. His lip twitched, everybody was working hard to keep the camp functional and they were just hanging around, probably talking about the most futile things in the world. Harlan stormed towards them, their heads spinning towards him with gazes of shock.

"So, what the hell are you ladies doing?" Harlan spat.

"Uh…nothing." One of the women said.

"That's the fucking issue. Here, we caught this fish. Get it prepared for supper." Harlan said, passing the fish onto her.

The woman picked up the herrings. "Why do we women always do the cooking?"

"Because things aren't like before. This is the old lifestyle, the better one. Women do the housework, men do the hard work. It's as simple as that."

He turned around and slid two fingers into his mouth, a sharp whistle escaping through his mouth. It was a call for his men to meet him. Everyone in the camp bolted towards him in a jog, aggregating in front of him like civilians in front of a beloved political figure. Harlan cleared his throat. "Alright, so I'm going to explain how we're going to proceed with the sheriff and his group. When I was captured, they took my map which has our location marked on it. And they're coming for their people, soon, I know it. So most of us are going to split into teams of four. And we're going to hide in the woods, and wait for them. Eventually, they'll appear. And once they do, we capture them and bring 'em back to camp. By the end of the week, maybe even tomorrow, it's guaranteed we'll have them. And when we have them…we're gonna hang those fuckers!"

The platoon of gunmen yelled hurrahs. Harlan drew his lips in a crooked smile. They were starved for revenge and he was the hand that fed them. Their rage and hate would be turned to motivation as they anticipated, each minute of the day, the moment in which the plate of revenge would be served, and since it was Harlan who was serving them the plate, they would be loyal to him like dogs. He was in a good position.

"Then let's get to work." Harlan said.

* * *

Harlan took Clint, Perkins and Tyler into the forest. Harlan and Clint were equipped with handguns while Perkins and Tyler were the infantrymen with their rifles. Most of their militia had split into squads and headed into different zones around the camp, a handful of them holding down the fort at their camp. They were heading deep into the hills, where each one of them would camp at a different location and wait until the sheriff and his group came along.

"You really pissed off those bitches." Clint smirked.

"Yeah, well, I won't accept have people hanging around, doing nothing. Especially these skanks who think they can get away with us doing everything. This is the kind of shit that destroyed our society. Things were much simpler, women do the housework, men do the hard work. It worked and everyone was happy. Women, you give them a hand and they rip out your arm. Any of you have any ladies?"

"I had this girl I liked. But…the walkers got her." Tyler said in a gloomy tone.

"I know it hurts, son. But let me tell you, you're better off. Gals are always out to get you. One time, after I slept with some bitch I met one night, I woke up only to see she'd taken my wallet. Plus, they're illogical, always overreacting, they're so damned dramatic, and they're fucking gold-diggers. Before, they chased after your money, nowadays, they chase after your supplies. Same formula."

They crumbled into silence as they kept trekking among the slopes and dense foliage, the sight of their tent town distancing from them behind them. The breeze blew by, murmurs of distant talking reaching their ears. Harlan glanced at his men. None of them were speaking. As they understood what was happening, they lowered onto their knees and crept towards the sound of the whispers, dodging aside branches and leaves that would crack. Harlan wondered who could be there. It could be his men, but it wouldn't make sense because they already covered that radius of the forest. Could it be the sheriff? He smiled at the possibility. If it was him, he really was having a lucky day. The sounds drew closer until he sensed they were just a few meters away, behind a row of trees. He and his men butted their backs against the trees, peeking beyond them. Harlan simpered, holding back a maniacal laugh. Rick and Kenny – at least he thought that was his name – were there, gawking their camp through the scope of a sniper rifle. They switched the rifle back and forth, mumbling to each other their observations.

"There they are." Perkins whispered, his index finger drawing closer to the trigger of his rifle.

"Here's what we'll do." Harlan said. "They're doing recon. It means it's just the two of them. So we'll wait for them to leave and follow them back to their camp, then we take everyone."

They nodded and the four of them became stoical, observing the two men.

"Their defense system ain't shit." Kenny smiled. "We can take down this place with ease."

"Don't get too cocky. Both our groups might have the same numbers but they have more fighters." Rick said, one eye looking down the scope. "But yeah, it's doable. Although I can't see where they keep Lilly and Daryl."

"Half those tents are too small to have both of them locked inside."

"Yeah, I suppose. We'll have to go from tent to tent. Got a good enough look?"

"Already know this place like the back of my hand."

"Well, then, let's head back. We'll figure out the strategy we use with Lee and the group."

The four men coiled back into hiding. They heard Rick and Kenny get up, the redneck slinging the rifle around his shoulder and their footsteps rustling as they turned around, backtracking to where they had come from. Harlan raised his hand, gesturing his men to stay put. He saw Rick and Kenny strolling away through his peripheral vision. They waited until they were as far away as possible, just barely visible in the distance among the trees, then they left their cover and sneaked after the two men.

"Alright, now we just follow them." Harlan said. "Not a peep and watch your step."

* * *

The next two hours seemed like an eon, a never-ending repetition of the same motion. One step forward, another step forward, with their gazes locked on the sheriff and the redneck, who sometimes vanished from their field of vision, leaving them in a state of panic. On one occasion, Perkins was so afraid of losing sight of them that he rushed too much, making a stick snap under his foot. Rick and Kenny sprang around, whipped out their weapons and scanned the area, but thankfully they managed to hide behind a slope, before the two men figured it was nothing and kept going.

"Fuck, their camp is so damn far away." Kenny said, wiping his forehead.

"We'll be there in five minutes, don't worry." Rick said.

Harlan held his breath. "Now."

The four men of them rushed towards their enemy, emerging from their hiding, their guns brandished high towards them. The silence was shattered by the ubiquitous rustling of foliage. Rick and Kenny halted dead on their tracks as nature suddenly was no longer quiet, thumps of footfalls approaching them from each side. They spun around in every direction of the forest, only to be met each time with the barrel of a firearm looking down at them. Rick's hand froze over his holster. He wasn't going to be able to pull the trigger faster than them. The two men's lips twitched as they understood the situation. They had been ambushed, they were cornered, and these people knew where their camp was. Rick and Kenny revolved with their backs pressed to one another. Rick bit his lip, seeing a crossbow slung on one of the men's shoulder. Then, he ceased to move when he recognized Harlan.

Harlan stepped forward with his annoying grin. Rick growled, that grin was begging to be yanked off his face. "We meet once again, friendo. Guns on the ground. Let's keep this civil, shall we?"

The two men remained still like kids refusing to obey a parental order. Rick locked a stare with Harlan, who lifted his eyebrows slightly. Both of them knew that there was only one way the standoff would go, and that would be in them dropping their weapons, and Rick knew by Harlan's grin that he was getting a kick out of the power he had over them. He liked observing them shift back and forth in their dilemma. Should they fight back, which was an option they could not afford if they wanted to live, or submit like lackeys by giving up their weapons?

Rick took out his revolver and threw it on the ground. Kenny snorted and shook his head, permitting the sniper rifle to slide out of his arm and fall on the grass, which Perkins picked up. Harlan looked at the revolver and raised his brows, letting out a sharp whistle as he grabbed the bulky revolver. "Whoa, you got one heck of a beast here. Damn, I'm going to keep this. Y'know, a little souvenir. She's a beautiful baby for sure. Now, c'mon, let's take a ride to your camp. I wanna meet the family."

* * *

Lee climbed on top of the train, scouting the environment around him. Not much was happening around the train, people spoke to each other or just waited for whatever time had in store for them. Clementine was sitting in the boxcar, her legs dangling off it, as she chatted with Christa and Omid, along with Molly who stood distanced from them, silent with arms folded. The sky was bathed in a tangerine light as the sun started to set once more, marking another day in which they still hadn't managed to get their friends back. Lee sighed, wondering when all of that mess would be sorted out. _Soon, hopefully. _Daryl's motorcycle was still tied to the roof of the boxcar with rope. Lee snickered, Daryl had strung it there after they got the train running, since he was hellbent on not letting go of his precious bike, then he had let it stay there when they went into Savannah. _I hope he'll see his bike again. _Daryl was like a protective guardian over the group, always there when a dangerous mission reared its head, but he always seemed distant. He seemed like a good guy, despite being a jerk when they met back in Atlanta.

Lee quit his thoughts, perceiving that he was standing immobile atop the train like an idiot. He looked to his right. T-Dog had a rifle in his hands, overseeing the forest around them. He wondered why Andrea wasn't in his place, since she was the best shot they had in the group. Lee walked up to him, contemplating the sundown for a few seconds. "Where's Andrea?"

"She went to fetch some water with Dale and Travis." T-Dog said, keeping his stare fixated in the dark treeline.

"I wonder when Rick and Ken will be back."

"They oughta be okay." T-Dog said, turning his eyes towards his companion. "And Lee, I'm sorry about Carley."

Lee sighed, the mention of the name feeling like a punch to the gut. "Yeah, me too. What do you think of Rick's plan?"

"It's a bit hard for me to accept that we're going to kill in order to get our people back." T-Dog said, a straight face and a suave voice. "But these people ain't like the cancer survivors. These are vile people. I've heard Travis say a few things. Rapists, murderers…I don't like to pull the trigger. But when the moment comes…I won't hesitate."

Lee drew a breath, both of the men thinking alike and both of their moralities beclouded with doubts. "I just hope that we're doing the right thing."

Shadows moved among the trees. A stick cracked. T-Dog and Lee stiffened their muscles, narrowing their eyelids, the conversations floating in the group being punctuated abruptly and their gazes pivoting towards the treeline. They saw two human silhouettes, one discernible by a cap and a horseshoe moustache and the other one by curly hair and a growing beard. Lee straightened his posture and T-Dog softened his grip on the rifle. But as Rick and Kenny stepped out of the forest and into the light of the clearing, it was clear something was not right. Kenny and Rick were lacking their weapons and they were biting their lips, glancing behind their shoulders, the severity of something written in their faces. Four more human shadows followed after them, their arms horizontal with the contours of pistols and rifles painted in their hands. The sunlight lit up their faces, revealing three bandits holding them at gunpoint, with an identifiable figure leading them. Harlan.

The group froze, no one daring to blink or even budge a finger, their jaws dangling at the sight of the intruders. Lori and Carl had their eyes shining as they saw their beloved husband and father held captive by the madmen. "Rick…"

Lori stepped forward but Carol put her hand on her shoulder. "Just stay calm, Lori."

Harlan chuckled as he pushed Rick and Kenny onto their knees, the two brushing off his hand from their shoulders. Harlan waved the Colt Python in the air, his insides tingling at seeing the extensive group of people with eyes on him, like an actor in front of a large audience. "Motherfuckers, motherfuckers, get out here before I go fucking bonkers!"

Tyler peeked down his scope towards T-Dog. "You! Drop the fucking rifle and get the fuck down!"

T-Dog let the rifle slip from his fingers, tumbling off the train with clangs as it struck its surface. Tyler jostled his rifle to the side. Lee and T-Dog hopped down on the railing and climbed off the train. Clementine came darting towards Lee, her golden eyes enlarged. "Lee?! What are we going to do?"

"It's okay, sweet pea." Lee said, his eyes fixated on the armed men. "Just stay by my side and don't do anything rash."

"This is a bad fucking situation, Lee. They got Rick and Kenny!" Christa said.

"And who knows what they will do with us?!" Omid said, his eyes gorked.

"Keep it together. We'll get out of this if we stay our heads level!" Molly said.

"I dunno, this looks bad." T-Dog said.

"We can't fight back and we can't do anything without getting lead shot into our bodies. Seems obvious we can't escape this one." Lee said.

Rick and Kenny clenched their fists. Being the prey, being so helpless and so unable to do anything was a novel and sickening sensation to them. Perkins, Tyler and Clint circled around the group, amassing them by gesturing their guns like shepherds herding sheep. Everyone lowered their heads, since their aggressive pushes made it implicit that just a wrong stare could end up in their demise. The gunmen snatched their pistols, knives and rifles, putting the smaller arms on their belts or slinging the rifles on their backs. Harlan pointed his handgun towards the ground. "On your knees."

They kneeled on the grass, their breaths hastening and prayers orating in their minds. Molly grinded her teeth. Just as she thought she was done with dealing with heinous people, everything was happening again. First it was with Crawford's thugs, now it was this crew of primitive fuckers. Her fists twitched when she felt Perkins yank Hilda from her back, almost like her sister was being taken away like that fateful day she lost her. Lori stared at her husband with a trembling chin. Rick mouthed her a simple phrase. _It's okay. _Lori nodded, her heart urging her to run towards him, just to feel him again, but her head nailing her legs down. Carl needed to be safe, and she did too, maybe not for herself but for the baby at least. Clementine clung onto Lee's arm, burying her face in it.

"Perkins, check no one's hiding in the train." Harlan said.

Perkins looked inside the wagons and jogged around the train, then turned to his leader. "It's all good."

Harlan smiled. "Good. Now, I'm going to explain what's going to happen. All of you are going to get on your feet, and we're going to invite you over for a tea party back at our camp, and since you're so fucking polite you're not going to refuse. Copy?"

Perkins hissed, his fingers palpitating against the side of his rifle. "Dammit, we should just slaughter these bastards like the pigs they are, right here, right fucking now!"

"C'mon, Perkins, don't be selfish. The whole camp needs to watch the show. Not just you. Now c'mon, on your feet and let's go!"

* * *

Twilight loomed over them as they got closer to their final destination, like cattle heading for the slaughterhouse. They had traversed the highway, now they were detouring through the dirt road. They weren't restrained but their captors had enough firepower to shred them to pieces within a few seconds of pressing the trigger if they attempted an escape. Nobody dared to kindle an insurgency. Clementine glued her grip to Lee's leg, who always had her where he could see her. Rick knew they were reaching their destination. He slowly turned his head past his shoulder, only getting a glance of his fretting family before Harlan jostled his handgun at him, making him face straight ahead.

Lee shuddered as he imagined how they would get out of this one. Things were looking bad and they had no leverage at all, and no escape opportunity was showing. Four men holding them at gunpoint, their camp where they would surely be executed only a few more minutes away. The ambiance among them wasn't too positive either. Most of them had their head shrunk between their shoulders, their expressions contorted and an occasional snivel being heard. Lee branched out in his mind several paths of what could happen, but each time, it all circled back to the same result, a result that wasn't good for them. _No, we're gonna get out of this. _He couldn't die. He couldn't let Clementine die. They had come so far, through so much shit, they couldn't just perish in the abattoir. But how could they escape? They were all captured.

_Maybe not all._

The camp came into view, torches lighting up a glow within it. The car gates were shoved open, people's attention shifting towards them. Harlan strolled through the entrance, his prisoners following suite. Everyone roared viciously and he raised his fists in the air, like a wrestler stepping into the ring. The gunmen watching their arrival billowed their rifles in the air, their eyes glinting with bloodlust and their lips sketching evil smirks. The group peeped around at the hateful crowd, desiring their deaths. Clementine wanted to cover her ears to block out the thundering outcries, but she prioritized clinging onto her guardian. He would keep her safe. Always. He'd find a way out. Some of the men picked up rocks and hurled them at them, a rain of pebbles and rocks landing on their arms, legs and torsos, leaving behind sores as they shielded their heads with their arms. Lee wrapped his arms around the little girl, keeping his head down. He lifted his eyes for a split second.

He just saw a glimpse of a rock covering his whole field of vision before the hard impact came.

Lee's head jerked to the side, his neck yelling in pain from the harsh jolt and blood squirting out of his mouth. He dropped onto the mud on his knees, clutching his jaw that was pulsating with pain. His mouth gaped open, the blood dripping from his lips and his heart becoming clogged as it raced faster and his breaths venting. The audience cheered louder. Clementine let out a disastrous cry and Molly halted her march, turning to his friend with a concerned frown.

"Lee!" Clementine shrieked, her hands shaking.

Clint kneed him down. Lee set his hand against the dirt, preventing himself from being dug head-first into the mud. "Get your ass up or I'll shoot you."

The pain was distorting everything, but one thing was clear. He had to keep Clementine safe. He had to keep going. Molly hoisted him onto his feet. Lee massaged his cheek, swallowing the blood. The others were glancing back at him with spanned eyelids, but then resumed their march at the order of gunpoint. His whole head seemed like it was about to explode, the pain dimming his sight and hearing. Lee dragged his feet across the mud, groaning.

Lester escorted Daryl and Lilly out of the tent. She looked up, searching for her dad among the crowd. He wasn't there. _Fuck, where is he?! _Scenarios of bad things immediately crossed her mind, but then she noticed that he wasn't the only one missing. Maybe he had escaped before the group was captured. Daryl and Rick exchanged a devoid gaze. They had found each other. Hu-fucking-hurray. But they were going to die together. Harlan led them near the tall oak tree. He snapped his finger towards Perkins and Clint, then beamed it towards Rick and Lee. "Make 'em kneel in the front. Want them to be the main attraction."

Clint grasped Lee's arm and yanked him away. Clementine leeched onto him. "No!"

Molly gripped the girl by the shoulders, forcing her to let go, feeling her heart being poked. Clementine squirmed, trying to rid herself of the woman's shackles, but she had her fingers welded onto her. Lee looked at Molly as he was dragged away, the woman's lip quavering. He nodded to her, assuring her that she had done nothing wrong. Exactly what he wanted her to do. Keep Clementine safe. Perkins, Clint and Tyler nudged everyone on their knees, forming a straight line with Rick and Lee kneeling at the front. Lester handed Harlan a rope, making the captives rivet their eyes towards him. He swung the rope over a thick branch, then made a hanging knot, while Lester set a crate underneath it.

"Hangmen and gallows." Harlan smiled, turning around to Rick and Lee. "Have I ever told you how much I like the old ways?"

Lilly leaned her head towards Kenny, who was next to her. "Ken, where's my dad?"

Kenny's eyes flicked in every direction, his lip slightly raised, exhibiting his grinding teeth. "For fuck's sake, I don't give a shit about him!"

The entirety of the camp was gathered in front of the stage, their eyes shining, thirsty for a good spectacle. Ben Paul tried to control his breathing and his bladder, the thought of dying within the next few minutes haunting him to the core. Perkins halted in front of Chuck, who glared up at him with indifference, despite having bitterness in his eyes. Omid wrapped his arm around Christa's waist, the tears streaming down her face. What hurt her the most was her baby, who would never see the light of day, who she would never cradle in her arms. Carl fixated his stare on Harlan, lowering his head until his sheriff hat hid his electrified gaze. Beth had tears welling in her eyes, sniffling, her body starting to shake. Hershel clutched his daughters' hands, making them raise their heads up at him. He flashed them a hopeful half-smile in his rugged visage. Beth grabbed Billy's hand, who was drawing angered breaths, but who turned his head at his sister, showing vibrant fear in his eyes. Glenn shut his eyes until it hurt, tightening his grip on his girlfriend's palm. T-Dog exchanged a glare with Tyler.

"You keep on gon' on like this, y'all ain't gon' make it." He said.

Tyler chuckled. "Seems like you're the one who're gonna die. Last words?"´

T-Dog snorted, shaking his head. "Not for you."

Lee glanced past his shoulder, seeing everyone breaking down. Something told him that most of them believed they were going to die, and this time around, they wouldn't be able to escape. That possibility started to entwine around his barrier of denial. But Clementine, so young, so innocent, she couldn't die. She couldn't. _She can't! _He focused on everything around him, swearing to himself that he had to get Clementine out of that situation, even if it cost him his life. "We're gonna get out of here…"

Rick stayed silent, not knowing what words to say. He wanted to say that he was right, but would it be a true statement? "Just keep lookin'…"

Clint squatted in front of Clementine, daggering her with his stare. She dodged her gaze away, closing her eyes. Molly, who was next to her, had her nostrils flaring and her chest inflating at irregular rhythms. She glanced at the man, wondering what he was scheming in his head. He raised his pistol, caressing her cheek with the gun. She shivered and whimpered. Lee sprang his head around, getting onto his feet. "Off her, you fucker!"

"Back away, you son of a bitch!" Molly shouted.

Clint marched towards Lee and shoved him back down. "Squeal and screech, little ladies. You'll all be dead real soon."

Lee growled, his eyes glinting, knowing the horrifying things he would do to that fucker if he had him between his hands. Harlan sauntered in front of the delighted crowd, taking his time to swell his ego with the cheers. "The few ladies and the many gentlemen! As I promised you, here it is! The people who trespassed us, who killed ours…took away people we loved from us into the realm of death. And tonight, one by one, we'll get revenge!" Harlan pointed his finger towards the sheriff and the one-handed man. "These two are Rick and Lee. They're the head of this little fucking group. Rick, we're gonna have to leave him for last. He's the worst. He needs to see all of his friends die, am I right?"

Harlan walked among the captives, inspecting the patchwork of emotions writhing their expressions like an art enthusiast at the museum. The ardor of enmity, the bleakness of despair, everything was there, created by his presence. Who was he going to pick? He needed a good kick for the beginning of the show. He sprang towards the crowd, having a choice in mind. "We need to kick this off with a bang. So, Lee, do the honors of being the party-starter."

The crowd went wild. Lee hissed a breath between his teeth, his head sinking to the ground and his arms drooping. He was staring at the dirt, but it was like he saw the scene around him so vividly. His friends' eyes riveted on him, sparking like stars in a nocturnal sky, their mouths gaping open. Rick set his hand against the floor, hyperventilating as a weight within him grew and suffocated him, making him feel like he was going to blast, his heart corroding. He couldn't do anything for his friend, and it was killing him from the inside. Molly hiccupped, setting her hand on Clementine, who tried to lurch forward but her sudden sobbing sucked the strengths from her body. The little girl hid her head between her shoulders and cried, finding no comfort in the woman's touch. Molly's eyelids batted as a wave of tears burst out of her tear ducts. She couldn't hold them back. First it was her sister they took away, now it was Lee, the kindest man she had met in the end of the world and the one who made her regain faith in people. But he would be gone. Like always, the good people are always crushed by the bad ones, and they're the ones who inherit the earth. Those who are willing to violate their humanity for anything.

Harlan heaved up Lee and conducted him to the gallows. Rick had to say something, he had to try. "You fuckers! Don't fucking take him! Don't fucking do this!"

"Don't worry, your turn will come up." Harlan said.

Lee didn't offer any resistance as he was dragged away. Harlan looked at him. "Not even gonna fight back a little?"

Lee remained silent, his eyes static on the ground and defeat written all over his face. He wanted to fight back, try to at least get Clementine out of that situation, but it was impossible. He had lost. He had failed. He mounted on the crate, facing the crowd. Their eyes were wide open, the smiles glowing as Lester slid down the rope around his neck. Harlan smiled up at him. "Final destination."

He kicked off the crate. Lee was yanked to the ground. His breathing came to a halt as the rope choked his airways. He gargled, gasping for oxygen, his legs flailing in the air. He heard Clementine yelling his name, her tiny voice deadened by the wild plaudits. He stared into the dark forest, knowing it would be the last thing he ever saw. Just the dark treeline. His hearing tuned out, everything else becoming more silent, until all he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest.

A bright light flashed within the forest. Lee heard a supersonic projectile whirring overhead, his rope tearing in half. He collapsed onto his knees, the hanging knot still tight around his neck. He panted heavily, taking in deep breaths as his senses came back to him. The crowd's cheering became silent, almost as if everyone had died on the spot, their expression frozen as they stared at what had happened. Someone had shot off his rope. And only one person could've done such a precise shot. _Andrea. _

Rick understood in an instant what was going on, the flame to fight returning to him. Everyone was pinned in place, their heads turning around to see where the shot had come from. They were distracted. Rick rose to his feet and snatched the pickaxe from Perkins. The man only had the time to sprang his eyes towards him, before Rick drove the blade through his Adam's apple. Perkins gurgled as the blood sprinkled from the wound, the air and life slipping away from him. Rick barely blinked as the blood drops splashed onto his face, his assassin glare fixated in Perkins' dying gaze. But as the gunmen saw Rick kill Perkins, they started to snap out of their trance and reach for their weapons. Tyler was raising his rifle, aiming it towards the sheriff. Daryl knew this was his moment. He rushed towards him and tackled him, both of them crumbling on the dirt. He snatched his pistol and butted it against his temple with rage, squashing the trigger. Five bullets pierced his head, pulverizing his cranium to bone dust and hunks of crimson, slimy flesh. Then, he turned to his side and looked down the pistol, lining it with Harlan.

"Shit!" Harlan said.

Daryl fired the pistol. Harlan sprang behind the oak tree, the shot missing him by a few inches. Daryl growled, catching a glimpse of the man fleeing into the woods.

The cheers were gone and the gunmen were now roaring war-cries, brandishing their guns and aiming it at them. Rick gulped down. They were out in the open, the men standing just about four meters away from them with rifles and handguns. _Shit. _But more gunfire flashed in the distant hills, two bullets splattering two of the men's brains on the mud. Their enemies howled as they dashed for cover, shooting at them sloppily as they ran behind tents or crates. Rick winced as a bullet scraped his shoulder.

Lee tore off the rope from his neck, the breaths hissing out his mouth as the fury took control of his body. He sprang onto his feet and sprinted towards Clint, who was dashing behind cover. Clint elevated his handgun. Lee tackled him onto the ground, the pistol firing a loose round away from his chest. Lee howled as he drummed his face with punches, his fists so tight that his nails dug into his flesh. Clint struggled to push him off of him. Lee didn't budge, the rage keeping him locked in place. The deafening firefight and the danger he was in vanished from his perception. As Lee's hits deformed his face and his vocal cords rippled with savage screams, Clint's arms tumbled onto the ground and he went limp. Lee hollered louder, intensifying the punches, his hand cracking and shooting sharp bursts of pain up his arm. He had started and he couldn't stop.

"Lee! Lee!"

Rick wrenched him back. Lee fell on his ass, panting. The adrenaline was pumping in his veins, electrifying him in an hyperactive state, the emotions so high that it was like an overdose. Things weren't going slower, they were faster. He had been hypnotized as he bludgeoned the man to death, and everything around him had disappeared. He glanced around him, analyzing the situation. Clint was laying on the ground, his face bashed in in a crevasse of broken bone and mashed blood. His knuckles were scraped to flesh, and his ring finger was bent. Kenny and T-Dog had rifles in their hands, whose triggers they smashed as they cannonaded their enemy with sharp bullets. T-Dog really hadn't hesitated. The gunmen found themselves between a rock and a hard place, with Andrea firing from one side and Kenny and T-Dog firing from the other, so they stayed hidden in their cover, only firing a few occasional bullets. Daryl was marching towards the forest, wanting to chase after Harlan, but was yanked back by Chuck, who convinced him in yells that it wasn't worth it. The rest of the group was running into the woods, disappearing into the night and the foliage. Rick was standing next to him, firing a handgun into the battlefront.

"Get up! We gotta get the fuck outta here!" Rick shouted.

Rick picked up the crossbow from the dead man's shoulder. Lee got up, pinching his nose bridge. He looked in all directions. Clementine and Molly weren't there. Molly had done what he wanted to. She had taken her away to keep her safe. Lee and Rick jogged into the woods with Chuck and Daryl. Rick waved his arm. "Let's fucking go!"

"You go on ahead! I'll fucking cover you!" Kenny said.

Rick shook his head, if he wanted to stick around, he couldn't drag him out of there. They were already pushing their luck as it was. T-Dog halted his fire and ran back with others, but at one point, he collapsed onto the ground, being bathed in the mud. Lee stopped, turning towards him. "T!"

"I'm…I'm fine…!" T-Dog said, getting onto his feet and limping in their direction. "Just…tripped…"

Kenny glimpsed past his shoulder, not letting go of the automatic rifle's trigger. Everyone had vanished into the forest, and he was the sole one left. _My cue to get my ass outta here. _He recoiled a few steps, slowing down his firing pace to short bursts. His clip was in its last bullets and he had to make good use of them. He flicked his eyes through the camp. There were a few vehicles with jerricans laying next to them. He aimed towards them and fired the rest of his bullets until the gun just clicked. The jerricans erupted in fire, the flames spewing in all directions, propagating by burning the tents and crates. The wildfire grew at a shockingly fast pace, engulfing the gunmen in fire, their screams echoing in the air. The oak tree lit up in flames, a burly beacon of fire that spat flames in all directions. Some of the men ran across the camp, flames burning off their dark silhouettes as high-pitched screams escaped their mouths.

Kenny stared at the destruction and death, the flames reflecting in his eyes, before he ran away and met up with the others.

* * *

Travis circled around the camp, handgun firm in his hands. The forest was dark and silent, but in the distance the gunfire was blaring, along with deafening screams and the crisping of flames. The night glowed with a fierce orange. Travis wondered if they had managed to escape. Considering the flames, maybe they managed to free themselves and tear up the place. Travis was alone, the sensation that a walker would sneak up on him itching him from behind. Andrea and Dale were helping their friends with their sniper fire, and he had departed to try to find them, much to Andrea's disagreement of him doing it on his own.

A twig snapped. Travis hopped behind a tree, keeping his respiration calm, the adrenaline tingling within him. He peeked from behind the foliage. Harlan was there, leaning on his knees and panting, looking behind his shoulder. Travis widened his eyes. The divine moment had arrived at last. He didn't hesitate. He revealed himself, making the man spring his head towards him. Travis fired three bullets, his aim worsened by the thrill and his inexperience with marksmanship. Two of the bullets glided far away from him, but the third one struck his knee. Harlan screeched, collapsing on the ground. He lifted his handgun a bit, targeting the teenager, but Travis ran towards him and kicked away the gun, which flew several meters out of their eyeshot. Travis stared down at him, the corner of his lip throbbing between excitement and disdain. Harlan patched his bleeding knee with his hand, wincing but forcing a shaky grin, trying to stay smug, to pretend that he still had the upper hand on the situation.

"You're merciful. You ain't gonna do it." Harlan said.

"You're wrong."

Travis aligned the pistol with his forehead. He took a good look at the bastard he was about to kill. He was grinning. As always. Travis let out a grunt and squeezed the trigger. The flash of the pistol illuminated his face for a millisecond, showing the red hole being punctured into his skull and his grin fading away. The teenager was left in the darkness, just staring at the black contours of a body. He sighed, feeling lighter and the burden slipping away. He remained stoic for half a minute, then the silence in the forest diminished as he heard an orchestra of footsteps approaching. He didn't take his eyes off from the dead man, but from the corner of his eye, he saw it was Rick, Ben Paul and the group.

Rick stood next to him, his eyes slowly shifting between the warm corpse and the teenager. "You did it."

"Yeah." Travis said in a cold and groggy voice, holstering his pistol.

"Get ready. It's gonna haunt you with nightmares tonight."

"I'll sleep like a baby knowing this fucker is dead." Travis said, looking at Ben, who seemed spaced out, heavy emotions translated in his hefty breaths. "You okay, bro?"

"I'm…I don't know." Ben said.

Travis patted him on the shoulder. "Close one, eh?"

"You could say that."

Molly looked at Lee, adjusting the pickaxe on her back. "You okay?"

Lee rubbed his neck, a redden line with the imprints of a rope etched in it, his ring finger burning up and gaining a darker color. "Know how it feels to be hung and have a broken finger?"

Molly twitched her lip as she glanced at his finger. "Geez, let me set that."

Lee let her grab his hand. Molly gripped his finger and locked stares with him. "Alright…one…"

Molly thrust his finger down, a crack echoing in the forest. Lee croaked loudly, leaving him in short breaths. He shook his hand, to cool off the warm pain, his heart pounding in his chest. "Thanks."

"So…what the fuck are we gonna do now?" Kenny asked.

"Meet up with Andrea and Dale, go back to the train, get our stuff and go." Rick said.

"Jesus…we almost died…all of us…" Carol said, her daughter sniveling with her head buried in her hip.

"But we're alive. That's what matters." Chuck said.

Christa and Omid gazed at each other, not avoiding relieved smiles, nuzzling their foreheads against one another's. Despite them being alive, that truth didn't seem to cheer anyone up. After what they had seen and done, there was no reason to celebrate. Footsteps crunched from amid the trees. The group turned their heads in several directions, with Kenny who said what everyone was thinking. "We oughta pick up the pace. Seems like the dead are coming."

Travis waved his arm and they proceeded down their path. Rick flashed a smile as he intertwined his fingers with Lori's and Carl's. Clementine walked parallel to Lee, without holding his hand or clinging to him, hiding her face underneath her hat. She was intimidated by him. Lee shuddered at that thought. Could she really be afraid of him? It was understandable. He had let his emotions get the best of him. She shouldn't have seen him do that. He didn't regret killing Clint. But he shouldn't have been so brutal. Much less have Clementine watch him beat a man to death. He knew she was going to be distant for the rest of the night. He just hoped she would comprehend him and that the next day, it would all be bad memories fallen long behind them.

T-Dog dragged his feet across the mud, almost tripping, wheezing long breaths, his grip tight around his chest. "Guys…I can't…"

He stumbled over his own feet, diving into the ground. Lee rushed near him, kneeling down. He was groaning, stomach down. Lee flipped him over. His white t-shirt was soaked in mud and blood in the upper region of his torso. T-Dog's eyes rolled around in his orbits, his forehead sweaty. The group stared at him, and Rick, Maggie, Hershel and Glenn huddled around him, their swollen gazes fixated on him.

"He's been shot." Rick said.

"Fuck!" Glenn said, kneeling next to him. "Don't—don't worry, T, we're gonna get you out of here, we're going to-"

T-Dog coughed a sprinkle of blood that flew out of his mouth. Glenn flinched, his lips freezing and his sentence cut in half. Hershel put his hand on Glenn's shoulder. "He's been shot in the lung. Explains the difficult breathing. There's nothing we can do for him, Glenn. No matter how much medicine or doctors we had."

Glenn's chin trembled, his fingers running down his scalp, tearing away hairs. Maggie wiped her eyes and caressed his shoulders, gently towing him away. Glenn got onto his feet and hugged his girlfriend, sinking his face into her shoulder. Molly approached them. "I'll do it."

Lee batted his lashes, crushing his temples with his fingers in an impulse of rage. "Fuck! Shit!"

T-Dog stared into the night sky, admiring the stellar constellations. His friends stood up and gave him a last glance of warmth and affliction, before walking away from him. Molly took out her pickaxe and glanced at the group, who had their eyes locked on her, but then shifted their sorrowful gazes elsewhere. Molly exhaled, then drove the pickaxe through his skull. There was a squish of blood, a minuscule orifice of red liquid pouring from his skull, then nothing. Not a noise. Not a reaction. Molly swallowed her saliva and sheathed her pickaxe once more, looking down at the limp cadaver.

"Can't—can't we at least carry his body?" Glenn asked. "He—he deserves a—a burial!"

The rustles became closer and an intonation of moans weaved into the air, obscure shadows of walkers moving among the trees. Rick turned to Glenn. "I think that's a negative answer."

They kept moving, some of their stares locked on the dead man. The walkers kneeled down around the warm corpse and dove their nails into his stomach, ripping it open like tissue and pulling out intestines, kidneys and bits of lungs, then shoving them into their mouths, biting on the organs with animalistic chewing. Their growls made everyone sickened to the core. Rick sighed. _At least they aren't going after us._

After a few minutes of forced march, their hopes and joy to live depleted, two figures appeared in front of them. Andrea and Dale.

"You guys okay?" Andrea asked.

Rick leapt forward, hugging her, almost knocking her down. Andrea widened her eyes, her arms petrified in the air. "God, thank you, thank you, you saved all of us…! Thank you…!"

Andrea grinned. "You're welcome."

Rick detached from her. "Listen…I wanted to apologize. I know that back on the attic, I blamed you for everything that happened. But the truth is…I don't know what this group would do without you."

"It's…okay."

Rick looked at Dale, who softened his glare at him. The old man then turned towards Lilly. "We found something a little concerning. Lilly, I think you should come see this."

"Wait…my dad's not with you?" Lilly asked with a frown.

Dale's expression remained the same, and he jabbed his thumb towards the forest. Lilly limped towards the direction he indicated, each step feeling heavy like an anvil and her gut feeling telling her that something was awfully awry. With a lump in her throat and the whole group watching her, she discerned an unusual shadow lying on the grass. Daryl tiptoed behind her, his crossbow slung on his shoulder, knowing in the back of his mind what she would find, and how she would react. The bulky physique, the graying hair, the beige pants, the striped and dusty shirt.

Lilly's legs caved in, her whole world falling apart. She crawled in wails and tears towards the corpse, putting her hands on his chest. "N—no...dad…"

Daryl towered next to her, no emotion in his face as he watched the woman bawl, the pain on the inside probably excruciating and unbearable. Daryl turned to Rick. "Y'all keep on goin'. I'll bring her back when she's done."

Rick nodded and led the group further down the forest. He halted for a few seconds, looking back at the wrecked tent city. The fire had engulfed everything, leaving behind only the bones of the tents and scorched corpses, the roasting flames lighting the night.

* * *

They didn't have a lot of things, so packing their things at the train didn't take too long. They had a few supplies to tide them over for the next couple of days, which Harlan hadn't bothered to take, and a few guns they picked up during their escape. An impasse brewed over everyone, they were exhausted and just wanted to drift into a slumbering coma, but they didn't want to stay in that same place. But the will to leave was bigger. After about fifteen minutes, Daryl and Lilly had returned. Lilly was like a zombie, just an empty shell of a body, no exterior emotion showing, except for the depressive vibe she emitted. Daryl lowered his bike with Chuck's help, and verified his pouch had everything – his Smith &amp; Wesson and Merle's diversified bag of drugs.

"C'mon, let's go, people. We've got nothing else for us here." Rick said.

"There's nothing for us anywhere we go." Christa said.

"We can't just stay here." Omid said.

"We'll go down the railroad. See where it takes us." Rick said.

* * *

They had voyaged down the railroad for about half an hour, about enough for them to feel distant enough for the earlier events, before fatigue struck them and they had to get some rest. They lit a bonfire on the railroad and sat around it, the flames lighting up their deadened faces. Molly wrapped a piece of cloth around Lee's bruised knuckles. He didn't wince or make a noise, he just stared into the flames. Molly looked up at him. "I thought you were gonna cry like a baby when I did this. C'mon, not even a wince? Give me that pleasure?"

Lee stayed silent, showing that he wasn't in the mood to speak or even hear. Molly sighed. "Well, try not to ruin your good hand. It's the only one you got."

Clementine stared into the flames, coiled into a ball a few inches away from Lee. She was insomniac, her eyes locked on the fire. She really wished her parents were here now. She could almost see their silhouettes drawn in the crisping flames. Her mom and dad would know how to comfort her. Her dad would make jokes about soccer and her hat, which he lent her. Her mom would know how to cradle her. Clementine shut her eyes, holding back a tide of tears.

Travis looked at Ben. He was still morose, gaze locked on the fire. Travis's eyes sank to the floor. Now that he had killed his nemesis and had attained his revenge, all of those emotions and weaknesses numbed by the rage were coming back. His fear of walkers, his fear of dying alone, everything. He didn't regret what he did. But he was just a highschool teenager. He played the drums, studied hard to get good grades, chilled with his friends and got rejected by girls. That was the person he was. Not a killer. It was so surreal how things had changed. He lifted his eyes. Rick was looking at him, an I-told-you-so beam stamped in his eyes. Travis lowered his head. What was he doing? That wasn't him.

"Thanks for saving us." Beth said.

Travis looked at her. She was staring into the flames, seeming like she said that just as a formality. Travis wanted to beam her a youthful smile, but doing such a thing felt like a crime in their current situation. "You're welcome."

Lilly curled into a ball with her head hidden behind her legs and arms, her inactivity almost making her absent from the scene. Daryl glanced towards her with a blank expression, then looked away towards the fire, in silence. Rick and Lori stared at Carl, who was laying next to them, sleeping. "What are we becoming…?"

"Huh?" Rick said.

"We just annihilated an entire camp of people today. I mean…is this who we are now? We kill people as well?" Lori said.

"They were horrible people, Lor. They didn't deserve to live. And sometimes, we don't have a choice. We have to do what we gotta do."

"But what about him? What will he learn from this?"

"I don't know. To survive? I know that a world like this can change people and it's certainly changing Carl. But we can't avoid it. Sometimes, however, I'm thankful that he can adapt to this world. At least I know he'll make it."

As the flames of the fire diminished into embers and thus into ashes, the group drifted off to sleep. They stared down the railroad one final time before shutting their eyes for the last time that day, wondering what awaited them in the next chapter of their survival.


	57. Keys To The Kingdom, I

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 57 – KEYS TO THE KINGDOM, I**

** AUTHOR NOTE: First part out of two of this chapter. Cut it due to the extremely long length.**

* * *

Yet a new day gone bye.

The sun reared its summit, shining in a cloudless noon. Counting days on old calendars was a post-apocalyptic tradition that had been long forgotten, but from intuition, the group estimated it had been about a week ever since their madness with Harlan and his goons had come to a bitter end. They spent those seven days on the railroad, trekking among the vast forests, and the rails always led to towns in the far entourage of Savannah, which was now just a distant, terrible memory. Their daily routine was splitting into groups, backpacks and bags dangling over their shoulders, and making sweeps of those towns. It wasn't to much avail, since the shelves were already vacant, the pharmacies deserted and the houses pillaged to the last can of beans. But they managed to fill up on rations for a few days, and due to their lacks of ammo or any kind of weaponry, they made weapons out of everything – rods, fire pokers, baseball bats, boltcutters, awls, and other household items, and brought along several miscellaneous items that could come in handy. They had bits of everything in their belongings. The raids and faring in the wilderness seemed to harden them, since everyone had partaken in the scavenging, aside from the kids, and everyone knew how to hold a machete or a gun. It was one of the sole positive aspects of the past week, at least everyone would be ready to fight off a menace.

Rick looked up at the bright sun. After sleeping as much as they needed to regain their energies, they had once more pursued down the railroad. The sun was blazing, forming beads of drops around their foreheads and turning their feet into hot ovens stuffed inside their boots and sneakers. They didn't know where they were going and what would await them, and that was one of the most tiring factors, a question that sometimes popped into their thoughts and left them uncertain, without an answer, tempting them to just stop and find somewhere to hole up for a few days.

Rick turned around to his group. Usually, he didn't like taking breaks, but they had no goal to accomplish and no deadline to meet. "Let's take an hour, y'all."

The group stopped, sighing and closing their eyes for a few seconds. They set down their luggage, sitting next to it as they settled in that spot of the railroad. Daryl kicked down the support bar on his motorcycle, glancing at Lilly. She wasn't as lethargic as she was in the start, but her expression was devoid of any glee, just a pale mask with hollowed orbits. Kenny unscrewed the lid off his canteen, peeping inside. Just a few drops. "We oughta search for a creek before we head out. We gotta fill up on water, we can boil it later."

"Knock yourself out." Lee said.

Kenny nodded, turning his head towards the group. "Omid, Charles, c'mon, let's go find a river!"

Clementine wiped her forehead. "I miss winter."

"I think I do too." Molly said, waving her collar back and forth.

Daryl pinned down the stirrup of his crossbow with his foot, pulling back the bow string until it clicked and sliding an arrow onto the tiller. "Hey, while the others wash their panties, let's go hunt. That owl from yesterday didn't exactly hit the spot."

Rick slung his sniper rifle on his back, passing one to Lee. "You sure you can handle a rifle, Lee?"

"Gonna need a little getting used to." Lee said, hanging the rifle on his back. "But I think my stump's long enough to do the job."

"Just to be sure, don't aim that shit at me." Daryl said.

"You heading out?" Molly said, approaching the former professor with Clementine beside her.

"Yeah, we'll come back soon enough." Lee said, squatting down and planting a kiss on the little girl's forehead, whose face was blank but whose eyes glinted, somewhat troubled to see him leave. He got up, checking he had his rifle, his handgun and his machete, before going away with the two other men.

* * *

Rick, Lee and Daryl marched down the railroad, surrounded by the endless trees that seemed untouched by the end of the world. Being lost in the wild, deep within its peaceful embrace, almost made it feel like the walkers didn't exist. They kept their eyes on the treelines, but the hopes that they would find something were rare, since they couldn't even hear the birds chirping. An utopian landscape with no life. Daryl locked his eyes on a tree branch, about seven meters away. There was a squirrel tiptoeing on the twigs. He raised his crossbow, looking down the scope.

"Looks like I got us a meal."

The arrow cut through the air, piercing through the squirrel. The animal was knocked off the branch and fell onto the dirt. Daryl grabbed the animal, yanking off the arrow and sliding it back in his quiver. Rick and Lee looked at the limp critter, who seemed like a ragdoll with its litheness. Its eyelids were stretched out in a creepy, empty gaze and a crimson hole on its stomach.

"We can cook it for dinner." Rick said, imagining in his head how they would divide the squirrel in twenty-seven pieces. It wasn't much, but he couldn't complain.

"Gon' be a real treat." Daryl said.

A high-pitched scream reverberated in the trees. Rick and Lee pulled out their handguns while Daryl quickly loaded another arrow, before the three men gathered in a circle, back to back. They bent their knees in an offensive stance, their eyebrows raised and their eyes peeled. They looked towards the part of the forest where they guessed the scream came from. Lee knew someone was in trouble, and his good side incited him to rush into the woods. "Someone's in trouble!"

"Seems like a girl." Daryl said.

Rick palpitated his fingers against his holster, standing still. He wanted to help whoever was out there, but doing that would implicate them getting involved with strangers, which was something he promised himself he would never do again. But he couldn't let people, who might be innocent or have kids and wives, die. It still wasn't in his blood. "Fuck. Let's hurry."

They ran into the forest. The sticks cracked under their feet, their shoes kicking dirt behind them as the leaves dangling from the low branches scratched their face and made them shove them away. They halted dead in their tracks, seeing three people cornered by a dozen of walkers. There was a dark, teen girl with curly hair and another pale teenager, with glasses and straws of facial hair, but the focus was on the third person. He was dark and had a wide and rigid physique, which almost made him blend in with the tree trunks, and he was pounding on the walkers' heads as they approached with a hammer, applying a stunning force. A blare erupted from his mouth as he swung with no pause, each blow strong as the one of an industrial machine. His hammer gouged dents into their skulls, their bodies dropping on the floor until there were only nine walkers left. The trio of men advanced forward, deeming it was time to intervene. Rick and Lee sliced through undead heads with their machetes, blood sprinkling through the air, while Daryl fired an arrow through the nearest walker's forehead, then proceeded at stabbing the others in the temples with his forehead. The dark man glanced at them, stopping his swinging with heavy breaths, but then resumed the savage blows once some of the walkers got too close. The two teenagers hid behind him, their fingers chained as they watched the strangers help them, having come out of nowhere.

Rick, Lee and Daryl panted, looking over the dozen of dead bodies laying on the ground, narrow cuts shaped like blades stippled into their skulls. Daryl jerked out his arrow from one of the corpses as the two groups of strangers exchanged looks, acknowledging each other. The man let out a whoa, wiping his forehead. "Thanks, guys. They were starting to corner us. Name's Tyreese. This is my daughter Julie and her, uh…friend Chris."

Tyreese stretched out his hand. Rick let him hung for a few seconds, examining the man. He was flashing him a large smile. He seemed to be normal, but usually normality was just a mask in the apocalypse. He did have a kid, which lowered the chances of him being a psychopath. But it also meant that he would screw them over if it increased his daughter's chances. Despite it all, he emitted a certain charisma, as if he had good social skills. Rick shook his hand. "Rick. This is Lee and Daryl."

"You guys okay? Didn't get bit? Scratched?" Lee asked.

"Nah, don't sweat it. We're good." Tyreese said.

Julie's legs buckled and she sat down, her forehead shining with sweat. "Jesus, I need to sit down."

Lee glanced at the young girl as Chris squatted next to her, holding her hand. "You okay?"

"Is she alright?" Lee asked.

"Yeah, it's just we haven't eaten in a few days." Tyreese said. "You wouldn't happen to have…any food?"

"Got a dead squirrel in my pocket if you want it." Daryl said.

Lee chuckled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cereal bar. Rick gave him a sharp glance, the two friends speaking through telepathy. _Don't push it, Lee. I know, Rick_. Tyreese took it and gave it to Julie. "Thank you. Take it, sweetie."

Julie opened the wrapping and snapped the cereal bar in two, her mouth watering at the sight of something edible. "Want half of it, Chris?"

"Sure." Chris smiled.

"Aw, hell no! I said it's for you, not for him." Tyreese said, Chris' hand freezing over the chunk of protein.

"Geez, dad, he deserves to eat too. And you as well." Julie said.

"Nah, I can handle my empty stomach for now." Tyreese said, turning to the new acquaintances. "It's just the three of you? You make an unusual trio."

"We have more people." Rick said.

"How many?"

"A lot."

Lee glanced behind him, getting the impression of hearing distant footsteps. It wasn't just an impression, as he saw Andrea and Dale jogging in the railroad, shooting glances in all directions, probably searching for them. Rick and Daryl noticed him staring into the distance and followed his gaze, being puzzled by what they saw.

"Andrea? Dale? What they doin' here?" Daryl said.

"Fuck, maybe something happened." Rick said, his blood running cold.

The three of them ran towards them. Tyreese, Julie and Chris switched glances, wondering if they should go after them. Tyreese shrugged and they chased after them.

Andrea and Dale halted and jumped back, jostling their gazes towards the six human figures rushing out of the forest. At first she reached for her rifle, but then she identified them as being as their friends, despite being accompanied by strangers, and the two eased their tense postures. "Rick! Who…who're the new guys…?"

"This is Tyreese, Julie and Chris." Rick said.

"Hey, good to met you." Tyreese smiled, with a beckon.

"Uh…hi."

"What's wrong?! Why are you here?" Lee asked.

Dale and Andrea leaned on their knees, gasping for breaths. She calmed her breathing, trying to gather enough air to say a coherent sentence. "You're not going…to believe…what Dale and I found..:!"

"It's…unbelievable…" Dale said. "God…my heart can't…take this shit…"

"Jesus, you're setting the expectations high." Lee said.

"For a good reason…c'mon." Andrea said.

"Wait, what'dya find?" Daryl asked.

"You gotta see it for yourselves."

"I hate suspense." Daryl mumbled.

Rick and his friends started to run back to camp, but Tyreese's voice stopped them. "Listen, I don't want to be too much of a bore, but would you guys mind if we tagged along with you? We're starving here and we haven't found anything in days. We'll pull our weight. If you have kids, Chris and Julie can take care of them, and I'm good at handling walkers."

"We saw ya hammering those walkers like they were cockroaches." Daryl said.

Lee turned to Rick, addressing to him in whispers. "He could be an asset. He's real fucking strong and we saw how well he handled that pack of walkers."

Rick sighed. He didn't want to send off packing a struggling family like that, but their group was already as big as it was, and there were the trust issues. Although he had to admit that his ability with zombies was phenomenal, something that would come in handy. He was just going to give it to him straight. "You can come with us. But I'll warn you straight away. We've met a lot of people in the past, and most of them have crossed us. And it didn't end well for them. If you try to hurt me or my group…it won't end well for you."

Tyreese nodded with a serious, non-intimidated expression. "Copy that."

* * *

Andrea and Dale led Rick, Daryl, Lee, Tyreese, Julie and Chris through the woods, all of them thinking about what could be waiting for them. Andrea seemed determined not to spoil them the surprise, so the anticipation built up inside them. The two teenagers lagged behind the adults, murmuring to each other and occasionally emitting a giggle. Rick looked at Chris, wondering why he wasn't with his own family. It was clear from the color of his skin that he wasn't affiliated with them, plus Tyreese hasn't mentioned him as his kid.

"So…I gotta ask, why is Chris with you?" Rick asked, wanting to know more about the man. He didn't want to have someone he didn't know in his group.

"Julie and Chris are…going steady? Dating? I dunno the correct term anymore." Tyreese said. "Anyway, Chris was staying with us when everything started going to hell. Family problems. Long story. We had a pretty good setup before we ran out of food. So, a couple of weeks ago, we set out in search for food. We thank you for your help. None of us have eaten in days."

"We don't have a whole lot of food either." Daryl said.

"Yeah, our supplies are dwindling." Dale said.

"You guys said you had problems with people before." Tyreese said.

"Yeah, we did." Lee said. "Almost everyone has had it out for us."

"You guys have a bad rep, or what?" Tyreese joked.

"Sick people." Rick said. "This family of cannibals who tried to chop us to pieces…"

"Whoa." Tyreese said, any trace of humor vanishing from him. "For real?"

"Bandits, a suicidal scientist almost blew us up…sometimes I forget about some of them."

"Crazy bitch in the woods tried to drive an arrow through me as well." Daryl said.

"My best friend." Rick said. "This thing…it changes people, you know?"

"Hell, I know. Damn." Tyreese said. "A couple of weeks after all this started…the first time we ran out of food, we made a run down to a country store about two miles away from our house. We got there to find the place torn apart. It'd been looted three times over. But there were stray cans all over the place. It seemed safe enough so Julie, Chris and I split up. Looking the place over to find as much food as we could. There was this nice man, gotta be at least sixty. He was always sitting in front of the store with buddies chatting away about God knows what…nicest old man you'd ever meet. Always had a kind word to say. While we were separated, he got a hold of Julie. Pulled her into a backroom. Seems he'd be living in the place, we had no idea anyone was even there."

Tyreese's eyes sank to the ground, like he was readying the words to admit something he wasn't sure he should admit. "This sweet old man…the first thing he thinks of when he finally sees other people…he tried to rape Julie. Had I been two minutes later when I found them…he'd have done it. I killed that man. I wanted to…but I didn't mean to. I beat on him, and he died."

They remained with austere expressions, absorbing the man's words. Rick understood that he was honest and had nothing to hide. His confession, a few months back, would've shocked them, but nowadays it was something comprehensible, something all of them had done, aside from the lucky exceptions. Rick jerked his neck to the side. "You did what any father would've done. What I would've done."

"I'm not beating myself up because I did it. I'm beating myself up because I don't feel bad about it. Yeah, the end of the world changed him. But look how it changed me."

"Well, guys, here it is." Andrea said as they reached the peak of a hill.

Rick, Lee, Daryl and Tyreese widened their eyes at the view. Centered in a vast clearing in the distance, there was a prison, skirted with a brook. There was a complex of buildings on the rear, and on the front, there were two fences with gates that formed a passageway that outlaid the main yard. There were four watchtowers, two of them on opposite ends of the field, one between the inner and outer fences, and the other one inside the main yard, at the far end of it. However, the yard was overrun by walkers, dozens of them evenly specked across the prison grounds. Maybe it didn't look like it at the time, but they had just found home sweet home.

"It's a shame." Daryl said, seeing all the walkers occupying the place.

"What do you think?" Lee asked.

Rick smiled. "I think it's home."

"You want to take it?" Tyreese asked.

"Fuck yeah! I can't express how valuable this is, Andrea." Rick said. "Here's what we'll do. Let's go back to the group, tell them about this place, move everyone here so they see us from a distance. I'll bring a group with me to the prison, we'll clear out as much as we can."

"Seems like a good plan as any." Andrea said.

"Well, then, count me in to knock some skulls together." Tyreese said.

Rick stayed silent for a while, but then concluded that it would be better to have him around him rather than have him near his wife and son without him watching him. Plus, if he went, he would have to leave the teenagers with their group, so they would have a bargaining chip if he did something nefarious. "Yeah, good to be able to count on you. If you want, Chris and Julie can stay with our group."

* * *

Within five minutes, they had moved their belongings to the peak of the hill, and everyone was in awe, staring down at the prison. Rick had chosen almost everyone in fighting condition - Lee, Daryl, Tyreese, Kenny, Glenn, Maggie, Molly, Carol, Chuck, Andrea and Hershel. Their clearing squad assembled in one spot, checking their weapons, pistols and rifles. Tyreese had met most of the group, and despite them keeping their sentences short towards the man, with wary glances, he seemed to have a vibe that made him approachable.

"I'm coming too."

Daryl turned to Lilly, who was sliding a bullet into a bolt-action rifle. "You sure you up for it?"

"Don't condescend me. I'm grieving, I'm not crazy." Lilly said, a tone of bitterness in her voice.

"Alright, let's head out!" Rick said.

* * *

The squad jogged down the hill and towards the prison. The inner and outer fences created a corridor around the main yard, and if they could pierce a hole in the fence, they could slip inside and travel around towards the gates without worrying about walkers, since that corridor was clear of zombies. They slowed down as they reached the outer fence, where a pair of walkers roamed about. Tyreese bashed in one of the walkers' head in. Glenn speared a walker against the fence with his makeshift spear – a knife taped to the end of a broom pole – and Maggie finished it off with a machete blow to its head.

"Watch the backside." Kenny said, brandishing a pair of boltcutters.

"Got it." Hershel said.

Kenny spread the boltcutters handles and snapped the ligaments of steel, starting up and going down. Once he reached the bottom of the fence, he had cut a horizontal hole that was big enough for their bodies. He held the gap open by spanning it with his hands, and gestured the others to slide through with a head motion. One by one, they squeezed their way in into the corridor, until they were all inside and Kenny entered last.

"Let's get that hole closed." Molly said.

Daryl and Glenn tugged the two extremities of the hole closer and weaved electric cables around it, knotting it at the end. As Glenn got back up, a walker materialized outside the fence, making him stagger backwards with a squeal. He sighed, blushing at his own reaction, before Rick waved at them with his hand and they trotted around the corridor towards the middle, where the gate leading into the main yard would be. The walkers on the yard, almost every one of them dressed in blue jumpsuits, twitched their heads towards the survivors. Handfuls of walkers converged toward the fence, scraping their fingers against the steel and pressing their faces against it, groaning and limping alongside the humans as they moved forward.

Rick and his squad stopped, having reached the entranceway. On one side, they had the larger gate that led to the exterior, and on the other one there was another gate that connected to the main yard, with a flipped over prison bus on its other side. Rick drew heavy breaths, scanning the situation as the walkers battered on the fence around them. On the far end of the field, there was an open gate leading into a courtyard, where they could access all of the buildings and edifices. The courtyard was also filled with zombies. But it was like Rick already saw the place working. In his head, the prison was nothing but an unsolved puzzle, he just had to make the pieces fit.

"It's perfect. If we can shut that gate, prevent more from filling the yard, we can pick off these walkers. We'll take the field by tonight." Rick said.

"They seem like a lot, but I think it's doable." Lee said.

"So how do we shut the gate?" Chuck said.

"I'll do it. You guys cover me." Glenn said, remembering those Atlanta days in which he would speed through hordes to get supplies.

"No. It's a suicide run." Maggie said.

"I'll go, I'm the fastest." Molly said.

"I don't know about that. You've never seen me run." Glenn said.

"No. Glenn, Maggie and Lee, draw as many as you can over there." Rick said, pointing his finger towards the whole left lateral of the fence. "Pop 'em through the fence. Tyreese, Kenny, Molly, you draw 'em as well, but towards the right side. Daryl and Lilly, go back to the other tower. Carol, you've become a pretty good shot, go with them, take your time, we don't have a lot of ammo to waste. Hershel and Chuck, you take this tower. Andrea will go with you." Rick said, his finger pinpointing the watchtower just a meter away from them.

"Aye, aye, sir." Chuck said.

"I'll run for the gate." Rick said as everyone diverged to their battle stations.

Glenn took out a carabiner chain before going with his crew, and gave it to Rick. The two squadrons of distractors ran along the fence, striking their fists against the jangling steel, shouting insults and taunts at the walkers. Mobs of the undead creatures huddled on the other side of the fence, their jaws battering and chewing on the fence links. Once they had drawn every walker nearby, they slid their melee weapons through the gaps, hollowing out their foreheads and shutting off their brainstems for good. The sharpshooters on the towers fired their first rounds, the bullets thundering down on a few walkers and tipping them to the ground with a splash of grimy blood. Rick opened the inner gate and stepped into the main yard, shutting it behind him. He checked he had his revolver and his sniper rifle, before entering the battle.

He ran up a long gravel path that stretched out towards the courtyard gate. The individual walkers around him started lurching their heads towards him, shifting their route between the distractors and the sheriff, who invited them for a live buffet. Rick took out his revolver and fired the lurkers before they approached too much, drilling their cracking skin that wrapped around their decaying craniums. He drummed the bullets towards his right side at three walkers, but when he spun around to his left, a walker had snuck up on him, just half a meter away. He was about to smash the trigger once again, bringing his pistol up at eye height, when an arrow whirred through its skull, knocking it down like a bowling pin. Rick glanced at Daryl, nodding at him before persisting on.

Lilly had shot down five walkers with exactly five bullets, each one a hit to the head, with repeated and identical gestures that almost turned her into an industrial work line of death – squeeze the trigger, yank back the bolt, insert another bullet, cock the bolt, aim, fire, repeat. Daryl glanced at her, loading another arrow. "You shoot well for a desk lady."

"Shut up." Lilly said in a deadpanned tone, not taking her eye off the aiming notch.

Carol winced every time she fired, the recoil crushing her shoulder. Her aim was still terrible, since she had only hit walkers in their torsos or not hit them at all. She fired another bullet, which landed at Rick's feet, kicking up a haze of gravel. Rick hampered his sprint, almost tripping, and glared at her.

"Sorry." Carol said in a blank tone, since he couldn't hear her.

"And you shoot just like the typical housemaid." Daryl said.

Carol chuckled, rolling her eyes at him, then looking at his crossbow. "At least I'm firing a real gun, not a kid's toy."

Rick reached the gaping gate. The walkers in the courtyard took notice of him, shuffling towards him. Rick paced up his jog. He couldn't let them exit the courtyard, otherwise the prison would be lost. Rick kicked the zombie that was standing at the gateposts, which teetered back and shoved back the rest of the horde. He slid the gate shut, hooking each end of the carabiner chain to the gate and the fence. The herd on the other side gathered at the gate, their tongues twirling out of their mouths as Rick sprang around to rejoin his people. He came to a halt, seeing that the few walkers that followed him had cornered him. His eyes shifted towards the nearby watchtower, and he sprinted towards it. He yanked back the door and disappeared inside, shutting the door and hearing the fists of the undead banging on the door not a second later.

"The madman fucking did it." Lee grinned.

Daryl slung his crossbow and whirled his finger in the air. "Light it up!"

The sharpshooters kept firing, while the two groups of distractors took out their handguns and fired through the fence, the gunfire intensifying as everyone joined in. Rick reached the top of the watchtower, taking out his sniper rifle and starting to pop walkers. The muzzle flashed shone from all directions and the blasting gunpowder echoed around them, turning the main yard into an authentic shooting range. The walkers crumbled on the ground in a massive massacre. A chuckle escaped Rick's lips as he cocked his rifle. They were really doing it. They were really taking over the prison. Absolute madness.

A few empty clips later, all the dead were lying down in the main field, the last bullet playing a long-lasting musical note before silence fused into the landscape once more. They gawked at their work with a sense of greatness, seeing the canvas of a vast field of pastel-green grass, dotted by the oval shapes of dead corpses, and the spatters of blood that was sometimes as dark as squid ink. They descended from the watchtowers and everyone entered the field. A sentiment of pride grew in them, emanating from the victory, but was attenuated by the strong scent of death seeping into the air, coming from the corpses.

"Fantastic!" Tyreese said.

"Nice shooting." Daryl said.

"Yeah." Kenny said.

Carol hollered in joy as she jogged around the field. "We haven't had this much space since we left the farm!"

Lee laughed as he raised his fists in the air. "Whoo!"

* * *

Lori watched the group from a distance, hearing the distant gunshots. Their temporary camp was somewhat empty since everyone was clearing the prison. There was Dale, who kept a lookout for them, Christa and Omid, Hershel's younger kids and the teenagers. Travis and Ben stroke a conversation with Chris and Julie, attracted to them since they were the only people their age, as they watched over Carl and Sophia, who played go fish. Billy and Ben were distant, just staring into the horizon, while Clementine stood next to Lori as she looked at the prison.

"That's how we got all the way out here." Julie said, finalizing her story.

"Damn, you haven't crossed a lot of people." Travis said.

"Is it normal you two are still wearing your highschool jackets?" Chris asked.

Ben and Travis peeped down at their blue jackets, with their respective names inscribed on them.

"Yeah, it's warm, so…yeah." Ben said.

"We didn't really give much thought to changing clothes." Travis said.

Chris nodded, then sighed. "This is fucking bullshit. I'm almost seventeen. I've got a gun, I do okay at shooting. I should be out there with Tyreese shooting zombies. Not in here, fucking babysitting."

"You shouldn't cuss so much." Carl said, raising his head at the teenager. "I know you're not an all the way adult. Saying those swears isn't going to fool me."

"Shut up, brat." Chris said, narrowing his brows at the child.

"Chris, stop!" Julie said, folding her arms and shooting him a glare.

"C'mon, man, don't be such a dickhead." Travis said in a casual tone.

"You're the fucking dickhead!" Chris said, casting his index finger at him.

"Chris!" Julie yelped, her eyebrows pressing down on her eyeballs.

Chris let out a breath, his face softening as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, yeah, okay…fine. Sorry."

"He's got a temper." Julie said. Chris hissed a breath due to her motherly attitude.

"Sheesh, tell me about it." Travis said.

Carl snorted. "Call me a brat…"

Sophia tugged Carl's sleeve, bringing his attention to the game. "You ready to play?"

Carl shook his head. "Uh-huh. You go first."

Sophia looked at her cards. "Do you have a bearded guy with a black upside down heart? And do you want to be my boyfriend?"

Carl withdrew his head, twisting his lips. "Ew! No way! You're disgusting. Go fish."

Travis covered his mouth as he burst in chuckles, elbowing Ben. "Check that out, Benji! Carl gets more tail than the both of us combined."

Ben rolled his eyes, slapping his own face, his sense of humor somewhat faded after the last week. "I swear to God, dude…"

* * *

The moon took over the sun's spot on the sky. The night was dark and chilly. The group sat around a firepit, the stripped skeleton of the squirrel impaled in a stick over it. They shared the little meat they had, which didn't fill their stomachs and left them growling for more. But there wasn't more. They had dragged away some of the bodies, so they could have space and so that their putrid smell wouldn't disturb them, but there was still a lot of them laying alongside the fence, not to mention they had to be burnt. Rick walked alongside the perimeter. Daryl kept watch atop the flipped prison bus, his motorcycle parked against it.

"Mmh. Just like mom used to make." Glenn said. Maggie laughed as he threw the picked-clean bone far away.

"Tomorrow we'll pull the bodies together. Want to keep them away from that water." Lee said. "Now, if we can dig a canal under the fence, we'll have plenty of fresh water."

"That seems like…a good idea?" Clementine said.

"The soil is good." Hershel said. "We could plant some weed."

"What'dya say?" Chuck asked.

"I said we could plant some seed. Grow some tomatoes, cucumbers, soybeans."

Hershel raised his head, beaming his finger towards Rick. The group turned their heads towards the sheriff, whose head hung low and he didn't seem to be truly inspecting the borderlines. It was more like he was lost in a train of thought. "That's his third time around. If there was any part of it compromised, he'd found it by now."

Beth shifted her gaze towards Lori, whose eyes rested upon her distant husband. "This'll be a good place to have the baby. Safe."

Lori swiveled her eyes towards the young, blonde girl, who had glowing, hopeful eyes. She faked a smile at her. Christ and Omid exchanged a concerned glance, wondering if it was the time. "She's right. It's safe here." Omid said.

Daryl heard metal clanks coming from below the bus. He looked down. Carol tossed a plate of meat onto the bus, before she hoisted up her arms, struggling to get up. Daryl lent her a hand. Carol grasped it and he heaved her up. Daryl took the plate and dangled a hunk over his mouth, before dropping it inside it.

"It's not much, but if I don't bring you something, you won't eat at all." Carol said, folding her arms and compressing them against her chest. "Brr."

"I guess little Shane over there has got quite the appetite."

Carol grinned, tilting her head. "Don't be mean. Rick's gotten us a lot farther than I thought he would, I'll give him that. Shane could never have done that." Carol said, clutching her shoulder and moving it with a hiss.

"What's wrong?"

"It's that rifle. The kickback. I'm just not used to it."

Daryl sucked his greasy fingers and waved his hand at her, setting down his plate. "Hold on. C'mere."

Carol turned her back towards him and Daryl stood behind her, massaging her shoulder with a hard grip. Carol flinched at first, but then got used to his brusque strokes and a faint smile sketched in her lips. The silence imposed between the two like a barrier, smoking an abstract tension into the scene. Thirty seconds later, Carol rubbed her shoulder as he ceased the massage and picked up her plate. "Better get back."

"It's pretty romantic." Carol said, stretching out her lips in a kissy face. "Wanna screw around?"

Daryl remained stoic, her sentence so unbelievable that he couldn't avoid an amused snort, leaving the two in chuckles. "I'll go down first."

"Even better." Carol smiled as the man bent over.

"Stop." Daryl said.

Carol and Daryl returned to the fire, strolling side by side without a word. She sat next to her daughter and he sat next to Lilly. Daryl glanced over her. She had no plate. He stretched her his food. "Eat some."

Lilly sighed with a breath of annoyance, knowing she wasn't getting rid of him, and grabbed the smallest piece, shoving it into her mouth and swallowing it without chewing. Daryl shrugged and ate the last bit. Rick sauntered back down towards the fire, squatting between his wife and son. Carl lent him his plate. Rick smiled at him and took out a piece, chewing it slowly in his mouth and ingesting the flavor. Sophia clinched her stomach, looking up at her mother. "I'm hungry, mommy."

"I know, sweetie. We just don't have any more." Carol said, running her fingers down her golden hair.

"We need to find some food, soon." Tyreese said.

"That's why we better all turn in." Rick said. "Got a big day tomorrow."

"What do you mean?" Glenn asked as all gazes locked on Rick.

Rick formulated the words in his mind before speaking. "Look, I know we're all exhausted. This was a great win. But we've got to push just a little bit more. Most of the walkers are dressed as guards and prisoners. Looks like this place fell pretty early. Could mean the supplies may be intact."

"Yeah, hopefully it's just full of flesh-eating monsters and our baked beans are still intact in there." Molly said. "Jesus, I'd love some baked beans right now…"

"Rick knows what he's talkin' about. He's a cop, he oughta know this kind of stuff." Kenny said. "Plus, think of all the guns they might have inside. Automatic rifles, grenades, riot shields, shit, we'd have some goddamned impressive firepower."

"Gee, Florida man's already thinking about the guns." Omid said.

Rick smiled, shaking his head. "He's right, though. They'd have an armory. An infirmary. A commissary. Warden's offices would have info on the location. Weapons, food, medicine..:!" Rick said, waving his arm towards the prison. "This place could be a gold mine!"

"We're dangerously low on ammo." Chuck said. "We'd run out before makin' a dent."

"That's why we have to go in there…hand to hand."

"After all we've been through…we can handle it. I know it." Lee said.

Rick nodded, examining the group. There was reluctance stamped in their lack of livelihood, but he just needed to give them time to think about it. Eventually, they would start considering the grand opportunities that awaited them in there. They just didn't see what he saw. Rick looked at his son, lowering his head at his level. "These assholes don't have a chance."

Carl grinned. Rick glanced back at Lori, who glared at him due to his vocabulary. The fireside scene backtracked into silence as they had finished their meals.

"You okay?" Lori asked, rubbing Rick's arm.

"Yeah, sorry, it's just…" Rick said, pinching his nose bridge. "I've had a lot of shit on my mind…I've been doing stuff, Lori, things…damn…sorry…"

"We know what you're going through. Don't apologize."

* * *

Footsteps thumped on the ground like an earthquake, rattling everyone awake. Rick squinted his eyes open. Lori wasn't next to him. _Normal._ He raised his chest, leaning on his elbows. Everyone was covering their ears with their backpacks and palms, groaning from the rude wakeup. Lori was bent against the prison fence, gurgling as she vomited onto the grass. Rick got up and dragged his feet towards her, his eyelids weighed down, the morning breeze bristling his hairs and his eyes seeing everything in vibrant colors after getting used to the darkness of his slumber.

"Getting an early start, hon'?" Rick said.

"Oh, gross." Lori said, goo dripping off her lips. "Don't look at me. I didn't know anyone else was awake."

"We weren't. You jogging through to come out here and throw up is our new wakeup call."

"I'm more heaving than actually puking. I don't really have much to throw up."

Rick smiled and folded his arms, leaning against the fence. "I know, Lori. If we don't find food in this prison by noon, I'm going to go out into those woods and hunt until I find something or die of starvation. So I wouldn't be out there for more than a couple hours."

Lori grinned, wiping the bile from her mouth. "Don't make me laugh while I'm wiping vomit off my mouth."

"You've never been more beautiful than you are right now."

"What'd I just tell you?"

Rick lurched towards her and latched onto her with a hug. "Give me a kiss!"

Lori chuckled, pushing him away. "No…! My breath…!"

"I've gotten used to your breath, trust me."

"Whoa, you two!" Andrea shouted from the distance. "Aren't you pregnant enough?"

The couple walked back towards the group, holding their hands. The sleepers had realized they weren't going to drift back to sleep, and they were getting up with wobbly legs, yawning and stretching out, the skin sagging below their orbits. For once, Rick couldn't lose the smile he had. The past months, he and Lori had been almost invisible to each other, but something, perhaps the promise of a future in the prison, rekindled their complicity. He hoped their relationship would stay like this forever.

"I'm way too pregnant, trust me." Lori said.

"Oh, stop it." Carol said, looking at the bump in her stomach. " Save the complaining for when you can't stand up without help."

"Don't worry, I'll have plenty of time to complain when the time comes."

Kenny felt his stomach sinking. "Shit, I feel like our breakfast's waiting for us in that prison."

Rick turned to the group. "Alright, listen up everyone. I know we're all wanting to see just how inhabitable this place really is, so we're going to get started right away. We'll do it like yesterday, you split into two groups and draw away the walkers and kill 'em. Those who aren't coming with us or popping them through the fence, get rid of all the bodies. Drag them to a corner, we'll burn 'em once we clear out everything. Tyreese, Daryl, Kenny, Glenn and Maggie, you're with me. Once the courtyard's clear, we'll go inside the prison, see if it's good. We're going to be fighting in closed areas, so we only use our guns if it really means life or death. We don't know how much light we'll have either, so we'd better bring some flashlights."

"Already got 'em here." Glenn said, showing them two flashlights which he put in his pocket.

"Please be careful in there, Rick." Lori said. "I'm going to be worried sick out here."

"Relax, hon'. I'll have Tyreese to protect me." Rick said, glancing at the dark man.

"I guess now wouldn't be the best time to admit to you that I'm afraid of the dark." Tyreese smiled.

"I'll let you hold both flashlights if you want."

Lori grinned. "Geez, you've got a sense of humor this morning."

Lee came up to Rick, the two locking gazes. Rick understood his message and the two men distanced themselves from the group, until they were out of earshot. "You sure you don't want me in there with you, Rick?"

"I'd like to have you watching my back, but we're going to need all hands in there." Rick said.

"All hands in there?" Lee said, curving an eyebrow.

"I didn't mean it like that. You know what I meant."

"Okay, it's cool. What about Tyreese? You trust him? I'm kind of surprised you asked him to go with you."

"You ain't never heard that you should keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer? This way, I can keep an eye on him. But until now, he seems to be a trustworthy guy. He does have a kid. And he's the best I've seen at bashing skulls together. We'll see."

Rick returned to his squad, which was standing in front of the courtyard gate. The walkers had dispersed, leaving them an opening to enter. Lee, Beth, Travis, Lilly and Ben Paul drew the walkers away on one side, while Hershel, Chuck, Carol, Omid and Christa drew them on the other side like last time, while the remaining people dragged and piled the rest of the corpses. Rick, Daryl, Kenny, Tyreese, Glenn and Maggie opened the gate, forming a circle formation as they entered the courtyard. Rick took the carabiner chain from the gate and shut it. The courtyard was tighter but didn't have as much walkers as the main yard the previous day. The distractors outside shook the fence, making a ringing noise, but almost every zombie was more concentrated on the living servings of food inside that those who were outside, provoking them. The clearing squad advanced through the courtyard, any walker that stepped into their one-meter kill zone getting a quick death through a blow to the head. Rick and Maggie hacked them with their machetes, Kenny and Daryl stabbed them with their knives, Glenn lanced them with his makeshift spear and Tyreese hammered them with a mighty fury.

Travis drove his awl through the forehead of a walker, letting out a snigger. They were frightening face-to-face, but behind the security of the fence, it was easy like a game. "Piece of cake, right, Ben?"

Ben flinched, the bearded walker on the other side so close to him that his breath reached his nostrils and insects could be seen walking over its eyeballs, without the walker even budging. Ben pricked the walker's head in a buckling thrust, his knife only cutting its skin. The biter insisted, propelling its body harder against the fence. Lilly grinded her teeth, looking at him. "Goddammit, Ben, their craniums aren't made of butter! Don't thrust it like a wuss!"

Ben blushed, lowering his head and taking a deep breath. He let out a war cry, acute in pitch, and jabbed the knife through its skull without looking. He felt bone cracking and his wrist shooting an impulse of pain up his arm, due to the hard impact and his weak grip. He looked at the walker. Its jaw was hanging, its expression frozen in time. Ben yanked back the knife, its corpse sliding down the fence.

"Try to get your shit together." Lilly said, in a calmer tone. "There's not always going to be a fence between you and the walker."

Rick and the crew advanced at a rapid pace with their strategy, not daring to break formation. There was a walker that approximated them, with a riot shield near its feet. Tyreese pondered whether or not he should snatch it quickly, wondering if he would be faster than the zombie. He decided to risk it. He had been trained to be fast. He dashed towards the shield. Rick snapped his head towards him, the outrage taking over him. "Don't fucking break the circle!"

"We might need that!" Tyreese said.

Tyreese picked up the riot shield, then hopped back. He pushed the walker onto the ground with the impact of a brick wall. Tyreese moved further and Maggie ran up behind him, terminating the walker with a slice through the head. They rebuilt the formation as they checked that that section of the courtyard was clear. They had to turn around a corner, where a small fence with a gate split the courtyard into two segments.

Christa flicked her eyes over the deceased walkers. Her esophagus lit up in fire and she bent over in a reflex, her scant stomach content being forced out of her mouth. Hershel, Carol and Chuck glanced at her.

"You okay?" Carol said.

"Yeah…I'm fine." Christa said.

Carol quirked an eyebrow. Was it because of the sight and smell of the carnage? If that was it, it would be weird since after almost five, six months into the apocalypse, everyone had gotten to the disgust. But then she remembered, it wasn't the first time she had puked like that. She also barfed back on the mansion, when Lee dug up the dead dog, and a few days back she had also seen her throwing up in the morning. Carol's mouth gaped open, piecing two and two in her head. Christa shot her a suspicious glance, before looking away.

"Almost there…" Rick said.

Rick turned around the corner, but a denser horde lurked beyond the small fence. He backed away, mouthing a warning to his friends. He shushed them with a hiss and they butted their backs against the wall. Rick drew a breath. _What are we going to do now? _Maybe they could shut the gate like they did before. He had the carabiner chain. He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw five walkers wearing riot gear come into view from behind a pile of crates and pallets, their whole bodies covered in pads and Kevlar, and a helmet with a visor hiding their faces.

"Shit, that riot walker we saw a week back must've come from here." Kenny said.

"I wondered how you'd gotten that bulletproof vest." Tyreese said, nudging his head towards Glenn's armor vest.

Daryl fired an arrow towards one of the riot walkers. The projectile ricocheted off the visor without making a dent. Rick, Maggie and Kenny battered their knives against their helmets but they just bounced off. Glenn managed to spear one of the walkers in the neck, but it kept investing since it didn't hit his brain. Maggie drove her machete up the chin of the speared walker, finally killing it. Its corpse collapsed on the ground. Maggie looked at her boyfriend with a glow in her eyes. "Seen that?!"

Glenn snorted in amusement and yanked out his spear. Rick glanced at the thick horde that was now scuffing its way outside the fence. He had to stop the horde, otherwise they would flood the courtyard. He dodged aside the riot walkers and ran towards the open gate. He decapitated the sole walker that had exited and kicked inside one that was about to traverse the gate, before sliding it shut and fixating the carabiner chain. With that situation taken cared of, all that was left to do now was to get rid of the four remaining riot walkers.

Tyreese swung his hammer, making a crack in the visor but it didn't break. "Fuck, even I can't break this shit!"

Kenny hopped to the side of the walker, sliding his knife up its neck. Daryl snuck up behind one of them and exerted its head forward, leaving him an open space in its nape through which he stabbed it, scrambling its brains with his knife to make sure he pulled the plug on its life. Rick knocked one down by booting its knee and yanking off its helmet once it was down. The skin was glued to the helmet and was torn off, leaving only a fleshy skull with the eyes bulging out. Rick twisted his lip, dodging his gaze away for a second before stabbing it in the brain. Maggie lifted the last walker's visor in a quick jolt and drove the machete through its face.

The six fighters paced around the dead bodies, their hearts slowing down as they admired their work, silence dominating the ambiance except for the moans of the horde that was kept back by the fence. Their garments were soaked in syrupy blood. Glenn waved at their friends on the outside, indicating them they were okay. Kenny leaned on his knees, panting with a simper. "Hell…good fighting, y'all."

"Can't believe we're actually managing to clear this whole place." Tyreese said.

"Well, it looks secure for now." Glenn said.

"Nothing will lead into that courtyard over there." Daryl said, aiming his finger at the horde limited by the fence.

"So, next step?" Maggie said.

"We have to push in." Rick said.

* * *

Chris and Julie grabbed a dead corpse by its feet and arms, lobbing it onto a pile of the carcasses. Chris wiped his hands. "Did you manage to get it?"

"Yeah. That guy with the crossbow had a pistol in his bike, inside a pouch." Julie said.

"Nice. Now we've got two guns"

"So…wanna do it tonight?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah, of course. With these guns, it's gonna be so much easier."

* * *

Rick looked around, searching for an entrance into the prison edifices. There was a caged passageway leading towards a door on one of the buildings. The caged passageway indicated that prisoners walked through there. Rick entered the cage along with his squad, approaching the door that was the entryway of the building. Their friends on the main yard disappeared behind them. Rick held the handle, glimpsing at Daryl. He wrenched the door back and Daryl beamed a flashlight inside, keeping his crossbow brandished at all times. He nodded, signaling them that it was safe. He strolled inside the obscure structure, the others following after him. They were conducted into a gloomy room, an angelic light entering through tall, frosted-glass windows. There were round tables and stools. It was some kind of visitor room for the prisoners' families. There was also a ladder leading up to the control booth, which was just a windowed cube, and a barred door in the far end of the opposite wall. Kenny pulled back the barred door. Locked. "This one's shut, y'all."

"You're in luck, Tyreese. Looks like we won't be needing those flashlights, not in this area at least." Rick said.

"Good, I was afraid we'd have to live in the penumbra with torches and candles." Tyreese said.

Rick beamed his finger at the control room. "I'll go check."

Rick raised his machete, climbing up the stairs. He reached the top, the control booth just around the corner. In a sudden jolt, he stepped forward, ready for an ambush. A dead officer sat amongst turned off TV's, the window behind him splattered with blood and a bullet hole carved under his jaw. Rick poked its chest. No movement. He flickered his eyes over him. He had no pistol, but he had a keyring with several keys in his belt. He snatched it. Rick came back down, raising the keys in the air. His friends perked their heads up, hearing the metal tinkling, and Daryl grunted in approval.

Rick tried several keys until he twisted a key at random on the door, and it opened. They strolled into the cell block, which had two-stories of cell rows. Rick hurtled to the end of the cell block, verifying that the other barred door was locked. Daryl walked up the perch, inspecting the second floor. Kenny, Maggie, Glenn and Tyreese checked the eight inferior cells, whose doors were wide open, finding mostly strewn papers, messy beds and occasionally a dead prisoner, with blood splatters on the walls. Thuds echoed at the end of the second floor. Rick joined Daryl upstairs and the two walked down the cell row, their weapons prepared. Two prisoners were reanimated in their cells, their doors shut and their arms flailing through the bars. Rick and Daryl compressed their backs against the railing on the platform, avoiding their fingers as they reeled back their arms, preparing to stab the two of them.

* * *

Rick, Daryl and Tyreese wiped their hands against one another, having cleared out every rotting corpse and scrubbed off some of the blood splatters with blankets. The place still had the same coziness as a humid cavern, but it was good enough. The group arrived with their through the barred door, darting glances through each nook and cranny, some of them with amazed, drooping jaws and others with contorted facial features due to the dusty atmosphere. Carol's familiar claustrophobia made a comeback, but at that point, she didn't even care. Rick smiled at them. "What do you think?"

"Home sweet home." Glenn said with no enthusiasm, ambling into one of the cells with his girlfriend.

"For the time being…" Rick grumbled, somewhat disappointed by their lackluster reactions. _They'll get there_, he convinced himself.

"It's secure?" Billy Greene asked.

"This cell block is." Rick said.

"What about the rest of the prison?" Christa asked. "You sure we won't get ambushed during the night?"

"It's safe here. In a few hours, we'll find the cafeteria and infirmary."

"We'll sleep in the cells?" Beth asked.

"Cool." Travis said.

"Comfy as any place these days." Chuck said.

"I found keys on some guards." Rick said. "Daryl has a set too."

"I ain't sleeping in no cage. I'll take the perch." Daryl said.

The group departed in several directions, splitting among the first and second floor, choosing their sleeping spaces. Beth walked alone into one of the cells, her nose aggressed by the dust coming from the musty bunk beds. Travis took a deep breath and approached her. _C'mon, man, time to shine. Every opportunity is worth it._ Over the past week, he had progressed from being silent around her to have one-liner conversations with her. _Hey, it's something. _He stood behind her, imitating her queasy expression.

"Pretty gross." Beth chuckled.

"They make it look cooler in the movies." Travis said. "Remember those storage units from a few days back?"

Beth sat on the lower bunk bed, which spit a cloud of dust under her weight. She bounced up and down, her face softening. "It's actually…it's actually comfortable. Check it out."

Travis touched the upper mattress, which made him feel like he would sink in it when he laid on it. "Yeah, you're right."

Hershel walked into the cell, leering at the teenager who seemed like he was getting too familiarized with the room. "You find your cell yet?"

Travis spun around, surprised by the old man. "Uh…yeah, I was just…making sure Beth was safe."

Travis rapidly stepped out the room, wishing he could swallow back his words. Hershel smiled at his daughter. Beth rolled her widened eyes and shook her head with a smile, her ears wiggling.

Maggie and Glenn stumbled into a cell. Maggie barely looked over the dirty beds. "I'm so exhausted, I don't even care."

The couple tossed aside their belongings and dropped on the lower bed. Glenn started running his fingers down her arm and back. "Here, let me see."

"What you doing?" Maggie asked.

"Checking for scratches." Glenn said, kissing her shoulder, despite both of them being drenched in blood. "You're okay."

Daryl dragged a mattress out onto the perch. He was about to lie down, when he saw that Lilly was doing the same. "What you doing?"

"I'm not sleeping in a cage either." Lilly said.

"You gon' have to pay the fee to sleep in my spot."

"Keep counting on that. Make sure you put your mattress far away from mine." Lilly said, dropping the cot a meter away from his.

Lee sank in his bed, the tension alleviated from his back as he closed his eyes. Clementine climbed on the top bed, stretching out on it. Molly stood by the doorposts.

"God, I could drift away right about now." Lee said.

"Me too." Clementine said, folding her arms behind her head, staring at the ceiling that was just out of arm's reach.

Lee opened his eyes, raising his head at the woman. "Where you gonna sleep?"

"Oh, you know. Just going to take another cell for me." Molly said. "Not too different from that studio I lived in once."

"Why did you live in a studio?" Clementine said.

"That's a story for another time, kid." Molly smiled. "Well, I'll let you rest then. Bye, bye."

Molly stood there for a few seconds, before she disappeared out of sight. Lee submerged himself back onto his bed, his eyelids fluttering shut.

Carol and Lori sat in one of the beds, smiling at each other. Lori drew a breath, relieved by the peace. "Silence. It's so nice. Even after all this, I'm still not used to the sound of gunfire."

"Lately, we've had a few close calls. But we'll be safer in this prison." Carol said.

"God, I hope so. Before, you would always hear, 'live life like every day could be your last'. As if that would make you live life to its fullest and make you a happier person. We're living every day like it could be our last…and it's horrible. We've seen too much death. Any one of us could die at any minute. We've seen it happen time and time again. And God help me, I'm bringing another child into this world."

"Lori, please. You're being too damn bleak. You're pregnant, but with this prison you'll be safe. Plus, you're not the only one-"

Carol cut off her own sentence. Shit, had she said too much? Lori jolted her head up. "Wait, what does that mean?"

Carol sighed. She couldn't rewind and change her phrasing, so she might as well come clean. "When we were killing the walkers through the fence, Christa threw up out of nowhere. And I've noticed, she's been throwing up for days. It almost looks like morning sickness…like yours."

Lori's jaw dangled, a cold sweat chilling her spine. The thought of bringing one child into the world was already horrifying, but bringing two? Sure, it made her feel less lonely on what she was going through, but raising babies in the end of the world was sure to bring countless problems. "Oh, God…you think the others know?"

"Rick would've told us if he knew. Lee might know, maybe Clementine and Molly as well. Hershel and Chuck saw her puke. Maybe they guessed it as well."

"Shit…you think we should tell the others?"

"I don't know. It's her privacy. But eventually, she'll start showing and she'll have to tell."

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: Here's a chapter I've been long awaiting to present to you, one that I've enjoyed a lot writing and one I'm sure you loved reading, with the prison and all, not to mention that I blended comic and TV elements into this milkshake of storytelling, and almost everyone in this chapter (counting part 2 which will be coming soon) got at least a dialogue line. A small remark, the riot walker Kenny mentioned is the one he killed with Chuck and Rick in chapter 55. I put that scene in to foreshadow the prison.**

** Now, I'd like to talk about another subject. TheDomDotCom is a writer on this website who has given me constant and invaluable support, and I feel like I have to pay him back. **

** He has a story of his, "Living In A World Of Fiction", which is one of the best ones in this website and one that's truly fascinating. It follows the story of his OC Dominic, who is a really well-fleshed out character, who perfectly integrates into the cast and seems like a real TWD character, and he really seizes the focus of the story. The catch is, Dom knows everything that will happen. **

** See, this isn't just a boring OC story where the OC is badly fleshed out, who only drops a few lines and barely makes a difference aside from saving everyone who died in the most predictable and boring ways possible. Here, Dominic is a unique character who struggles a lot with his power and living in the new world, and sometimes, he can't always save everyone. The fact that he changes the present also prevents him from seeing the future, and as the story progresses further and we discover more about other time travelers and his power, the story becomes more interesting and mysterious, with that sci-fi touch that makes it so magical and original. The writing in itself is sheer beautiful and vivid, something close to a real writer.**

** But one issue I have is that lately, he's been getting less reviews and it really bugs me, because his story is a rare gem of a story in this fandom, that really paves the way and serves as an example of what an OC-focused story should be. That's why I'd like to ask you to go check out his story and leave him a few kind words. He didn't asked me to do this, I offered to do it since the guy's too modest!**


	58. Keys To The Kingdom, II

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 58 – KEYS TO THE KINGDOM, II**

Within the few hours in which they unwound in their new safe haven, the light shedding through the windows grayed. Most of them laid in their bunk beds, their sore bodies savoring the soft surface since in the past week they had slept on the rough soil, coated with pebbles, sticks and itchy nettle, but some of them lingered around the cell block, seeing the sheriff and his squad gearing up to leave again. It still wasn't nighttime, which for Rick meant that the work day wasn't over. Sundown was approaching, and he deemed it was a good time to explore the rest of the prison. Kenny had stripped the pads, helmets and vests off the riot walkers, which they would use during their exploration. Maggie, Tyreese and Hershel clothed themselves with the protective attire, loaded clips into their pistols and checked for damage in their melee weapons. Andrea looked over them, leaning on the upper railing, while Carl and Clementine stood by the sheriff. Carl smiled as he took off his sheriff hat and slid a helmet onto his head. The large helmet engulfed his entire head. Clementine chuckled, shaking her head.

"We're gonna take Hershel this time around." Rick elucidated, smacking the cylinder into his revolver. "If we find the infirmary, he'll make sense of what's useful and what's not."

"Don't want to take a vest or something?" Glenn asked.

"Nah, I don't need it."

"Me neither. That armor just gon' weigh down anyways." Daryl said.

Rick removed his son's helmet, erasing his smile. "You're not gonna need that. Listen, I need you to stay put. I need you to keep a lookout for the group, okay? Can you do that?"

"Of course, dad." Carl said with a nod.

"You have your gun, but you use it only when you need to. You're ten, son, you're the little sheriff when I'm not around." Rick said, turning to Clementine while Carl put his sheriff hat back on. "Hey, where's Lee?"

"He's taking a nap." Clementine said.

"Poor guy deserves a break. Bastard only has one hand, yet that hasn't stopped him from doing anything these days. Oughta let him sleep."

Rick fished the spare keyring from his pocket and threw it at Andrea, who caught it midair. "Make sure everyone's safe while we're gone."

"Gotcha." Andrea nodded.

* * *

Rick, Daryl, Tyreese, Kenny, Hershel, Glenn and Maggie traversed a hallway which led to several shower rooms, before they descended to the lower floors through a staircase. The underground level was a tricky maze of obscure tunnels, humidity bristling their hairs, with water dripping from ceiling pipes and cadavers of prisoners, guards and rodents paving their path. The stuffy smell within the narrow location was almost unbearable, their nostrils being assaulted by the stench of putrid decay, but they forced themselves to get used to it. Tyreese and Glenn cast the flashlights ahead of them, turning around each corner with the expectation of stumbling into a horde. The darkness made Tyreese a bit uneasy, but the flashlight helped him get over his phobia. They kept the noise of their footsteps to a minimum, but otherwise, silence echoed in those passageways, which just made them tenser.

Glenn shook a can of spray paint and tagged an arrow on the wall, indicating them to where they had come from. Maggie peeked around a corner. A dead-end. She swiveled back around. She bumped into something that felt human. She hollered, jumping in a startle and looking in front of her. Glenn was there, biting his lip and motioning his hand to keep her quiet. Maggie brushed a straw of hair behind her ear, gulping down her saliva while her cheeks dyed in rose and the others gave her reprehensive glares.

"Sorry." She said.

If there were lurking ambushers in those tunnels, the scream would have been a dinner bell. However, the echoes of silence still haunted them, except for the growling of Tyreese's stomach. They proceeded, walking slower and heightening their senses. They took rights and lefts, tagging their way back, unsure where they were going or when they would reach the end. But still no walkers. They crossed more cells as they moved further, perhaps formerly used as isolation. But nobody would want to live there. However if they wanted to roam freely around the complex, they had to clear every section. With the same repetitive tenor, they turned around another corner.

A wave of walkers greeted them with whitened gazes, shining in the beacon of their flashlights.

"Roamers!" Tyreese said.

"Go back! Go back!" Kenny shouted.

They sprang around, almost bunting into each other as they bolted in the opposite direction. They followed back the arrows, trying to count how many there were left until they reached the exit. But as they turned around another corner, a swarm of zombies flushed into the tunnels. They braked, almost diving into the horde that was less than a few steps away from them. Maggie evaded backwards, but a set of fingernails clawed back her sleeve, tipping her balance. Glenn held her tight on her feet, yanking her away from the zombie and they darted behind once again, penetrating through an unexplored branching of the underpass.

The hallway stretched a long way, with an alcove diverging to the side. Rick, Kenny, Daryl, Tyreese and Hershel ran to the end of it, but Glenn and Maggie were lagging behind after the latter got grabbed by a walker. A handful of lurkers came through the alcove, cutting off Glenn and Maggie from the rest of the group. The couple halted, spinning around, their eyes darting in every direction. There was a door. They didn't know where it led to, but Glenn didn't think about it as he opened the door with a strong pull, and the two disappeared inside, slamming the door behind them.

Rick glanced behind. His heart pinched him. Where the hell were Glenn and Maggie? Daryl stopped in front of a maintenance closet, with a windowed door. He opened the closet.

"Inside, y'all!" Daryl said.

They squeezed inside the compartment, shutting the door and squatting down, while Tyreese covered the mouth of his lit flashlight with his palm. Taunting grunts invaded the exterior. Rick peeked through the door window. The lurkers had overrun the tunnels, and they couldn't step outside without being noticed and chewed on. But what worried him the most was that they were separated from the couple, and they had no idea where they went. He hadn't heard any screams, so maybe it meant they hadn't been devoured. Yet. He squatted back down, the four men huddled in a circle.

"Where's Glenn and Maggie?" Rick said.

"We have to go back." Hershel whispered, his heart racing fast but he essayed to remain calm for his daughter.

"But which way?" Daryl said.

"We'll backtrack, see if we can find them." Kenny said.

"But we gotta wait out the roamers." Tyreese said.

They didn't budge, hearing the walkers shuffling by with their moans fading as they advanced further down the tunnel. The groans lowered in volume. Rick got up. The tunnel was clear. He opened the door and they snuck out of the closet with light steps, going back the way they came from. They hopped over the dead bodies on the ground which were a union of death dressed in blue jumpsuits. Hershel stepped over a dead walker, careful not to trip, his sight riveted towards the end of the tunnel.

But then, the walker's eyes snapped open.

The previously asleep walker that leaned against the wall lunged forward and sank its teeth into the old man's calf. Hershel cried out, tripping onto the ground as the pain stung his whole body. His eyes became bloodshot as he was defenseless, stretched on the ground as the walker yanked its head back, taking away chunks and straws of flesh between its teeth. Rick, Tyreese, Kenny and Daryl pivoted towards Hershel's screams, a shock wave rattling their bodies.

"Nooo!" Rick screamed.

Rick whipped out his revolver and drummed a bullet through the walker's skull, without hesitation and without thinking about the noise. The lurker's arms went limp as a blood spatter painted the wall. The gunshot bounced off the walls, deafening them and bringing their hands to their ears. Agonized groans made Hershel huff breaths in and out, just as Maggie and Glenn sprinted into the hallway.

"Daddy!" Maggie said, tears surfacing to her eyes and her body freezing in place, while Glenn spanned out his eyelids.

"Maggie…!" Hershel whimpered.

Daryl turned his head towards the end of the hallway. The walkers were invading the tunnels once again, with their reeking presence. Tyreese tapped his fingers against his hammer. Maggie clutched her nose as she broke apart in sobs. Glenn and Rick gripped Hershel by the armpits, hauling him up.

"Daryl, Tyreese, cover us!" Rick said.

The two men took the rear, facing the walkers and marching rearward as they hurried down the tunnels with Hershel. He grumbled and limped with the support of Glenn and Rick, while Maggie stumbled after them at a loss for words and oblivious to what to do. Daryl fired an arrow at a walker, that collapsed on the ground like a felled tree, slowing down the previous zombies. They halted, reaching a set of doors with a pair of cuffs around the handles. Kenny crackled the cuffs with his boltcutters, opening the doors and signaling them inside with his head. They hurtled inside, dragging Hershel inside without even taking a look at the room they were in. Kenny aided Rick and Glenn lay the old veterinarian on the ground. Daryl and Tyreese shut the doors and butted their weight against them, palpitating with the walkers' batters outside.

Hershel stared into the ceiling with out-of-focus, glassy eyes, the pain making him dizzy. Maggie wrapped her soothing arms around her father's head, mouthing him words of comfort. Rick ripped apart his trousers. There was a crater that gushed blood in his calf. Rick and Kenny glanced at each other with sturdy looks, while Rick's lip twitched as he knew what he had to do. He sighed. _Can't believe I'm doing this again._

"We're gonna have to do it like Lee!" Kenny said.

Rick nodded, taking his machete. The thought of amputating someone again nauseated him. But Hershel didn't have a lot of time and a second of hesitation could mean the infection spreading to the rest of his body.

"Hold him down." Rick muttered.

Glenn pinned down the old man's shoulders. Maggie trembled, imagining what was going to happen to him, but kept on comforting him. Kenny struggled to take off his belt, and then tightened it on the man's knee. Rick jerked his neck to the side, raising his machete and holding his breath.

_Fuck me._

He plummeted the blade onto his tibia. An ear-piercing yell blared out of his mouth. Rick cursed under his breath. He had to go faster and stronger. He hacked quicker, applying each muscle as he downed the blade that drew silver arcs in the air. The blood sprayed onto him, sprinkling his shirt and his stubbly cheeks. Maggie's face softened, becoming blanker with each blow as she cradled her father who was quieting. Rick sliced one last time, hearing a clank instead of a viscous spurt. He had cut through his leg and had hit the concrete ground. Hershel's eyes rolled back into his cranium, his wails devolving into silence while his eyelids clasped shut.

Rick's lips drew sinuous shapes in his face as he looked down at the pools of blood and the severed leg, fissured from the stump that outpoured with blood. He dropped the crimson machete, his throat dry, hanging his bloodied hands in the air. He backed away, the fiery contents of his stomach flourishing tears in his eyes.

"Ooohh…!"

"Uh, guys…" Tyreese said.

"We have to move. He's losing blood." Kenny said, taking off his dark green shirt and pressing it against his stump. Within a few seconds, the blood soaked through the tissue and he could feel the warm liquid in his palm.

"Guys…"

"We can't just walk out the door, it's swarmed with walkers out there! But—but we can't just stay here!" Glenn said, his brain overloading.

"Guys…"

"There-there has to be another way out of here!" Rick said.

"Guys!" Tyreese howled, finally making the others look at him. "We're not alone in here."

As the trauma of the bite and the amputation dissolved, they started to perceive where they were. They were in the prison cafeteria, which was a vast space of tables and chairs, along with plate carts, with a freezer door and the kitchen at the opposite side. But the focus of the refectory was the six people that sat at a table in the center, kitchenware in front of them along with a tray of meatloaf. There was an Asian man and a blond biker with a handlebar moustache and a curly beard, who had widened eyes at what they had seen, and the others had straight faces – there was an older, balding man with glasses, a Latino guy with a long mullet, and two African-American men, one who was bald with an earring, a tattoo on the side of his skull and a missing tooth, and the other one had freaky eyes and dreadlocks. They were all wearing blue jumpsuits.

"You guys want some meatloaf?" The dark man with the earring said.

The Asian guy shoved away his plate. "Geez, I lost my appetite after seeing that."

Kenny took Maggie's machete and hurled it at Tyreese. "Bar the door with it!"

Tyreese caught the machete and slid it between the handles. The two men recoiled from the doors. They shook but remained closed. The Latino guy got up, showing a Smith &amp; Wesson tucked in the front of his pants.

"Whoa, what happened to him?" He asked.

"He got bit!" Tyreese said.

"Bit?" He said, slowly taking out his revolver.

"Whoa, whoa, easy now." Daryl said, jolting his crossbow towards him. "Ain't nobody needs to get hurt."

"Maggie, I need you to hold this as hard as you can, okay?" Kenny said.

"Okay." Maggie said in a quavering voice, as Kenny removed his hand from the makeshift bandage and she thrust the drenched shirt against the stump.

"As hard as you fucking can."

"Yeah, okay!"

"Tomas, lower that fuckin' gun!" The Asian man said.

"You shut up, chopsticks! He got bit, you know what that means. We saw it all over the news, Vince!" Tomas said.

"We don't know jack shit!" Vince said.

"You have medical supplies?!" Glenn demanded.

"Nah, we ain't got that in here." The biker said in a Southern accent.

Glenn flipped over a plate cart. The plates shattered with clangs. He erected the cart once more and rolled it next to the unconscious man. "Get him up here!"

Rick and Kenny grasped Hershel by his feet and arms respectively, and hoisted him onto the cart while Maggie kept pressure on his wound. Her heart was racing, her mind overloading with worrying possibilities, but she couldn't allow herself to be an emotional wreck. She suppressed her preoccupation and kept a cool head, knowing that was the best way to help her dad.

"Who the hell's y'alls, anyways?!" The dreadlock guy asked.

"Don't look like no rescue team." The biker said.

"Do you really still think a rescue team coming, Axel?" The dark, bald guy said.

"If a rescue team's what you're waiting for, don't!" Rick shouted.

"See?!"

"C'mon, we gotta go now! Ken, the door!" Rick said.

"You's crazy?! Don't open that!" The dreadlock guy said.

"Don't worry, we got these motherfuckers!" Kenny said, taking out the machete from the handles.

He opened the doors. The tail of the horde had wondered off and there were only a dozen walkers that had stuck around. Kenny and Tyreese stabbed and hammered them, while Daryl and Tomas lined up their respective crossbow and revolver towards each other. The bodies piled up at the doorposts after sending the walkers into the afterlife, leaving them a clear passageway to get back home. Tyreese leaned on his knees, feeling a bit tired as he felt a hole in his stomach. He recomposed him and led them out of there with Kenny, scouting ahead for any remaining walkers while Rick, Kenny and Maggie pushed the cart. Daryl kept his crossbow aimed at Tomas until they all stepped out of the cafeteria.

Tomas lowered his pistol, as he and his fellow prisoners watched the strangers disappear out the door as fast as they had showed up.

* * *

Rick, Glenn, Maggie, Kenny, Tyreese and Daryl pummeled their feet on the ground, driving at full speed towards their cell block. Their panting, footsteps and the screech of the cart wheels resounded in the walls, while their brains were fogged by the adrenaline. The visitor room came into view ahead. Andrea was at the cell block door, peeping through the bars and her jaw dropping as she saw them with a one-legged Hershel. She reached for her keys and twisted them on the lock, shrieking the door open. They drove the cart inside. The group crowded on the perch or at the entrances of their cells, their eyes gluing to Hershel. Billy and Beth gasped, their faces contorting as their father was conducted into his cell. Rick and Glenn hauled Hershel up by his extremities and lowered him onto the bed, while Kenny took the cart out of the room.

"Dad! What in Christ's name happened to him?!" Billy shouted, his blood boiling.

"He got bit!" Kenny said.

"Oh, my God, he's gonna turn!" Beth squealed, covering her mouth while Lori wrapped her arm around her shoulder, their eyes fixated on the unconscious man, unable to look away.

"Maybe they got it in time, like Lee." Lori said in a throbbing voice.

"We need the closest thing to a doctor here!" Kenny said.

"I—I don't know much, Hershel only taught me a few things." Carol said.

Lilly hissed a breath. She wanted to cluster within her bubble of depression forever, not feeling motivated to do anything, but a part of her impelled her to help. She couldn't let three people lose their father. Like she did.

"Goddammit. Step the fuck aside." Lilly said.

The crowd gravitating around the cell split a passage for her, looking at her with quirked eyebrows as if they weren't sure they could do the job, but it was the only person they could trust. Lilly entered the cell and kneeled next to Hershel as she took the center of the stage, everyone drifting around her with their eyes locked on her. Maggie rubbed Beth's back while Billy chewed on his nails like a beaver. Lilly took off the soaked shirt from Hershel's stump, gooey from the blood.

"I need bandages!" Lilly said.

"We used all we got!" Glenn said.

"Then get me towels, sheets, any shit'll do!"

"Got it. Omid, help me get some blankets!" Molly said, the two of them sprinting away.

"Is he gonna die…?" Beth asked, a tear flowing down her cheek.

"No, sweetie, he's gonna be okay, he's gonna be okay…" Lori said, hugging the teenage girl.

"Lilly knows what she's doing." Travis said.

"You think you can stabilize him?" Rick asked.

"I need to keep his leg elevated. Pillows, now!" Lilly blared.

"He's already bled through the sheets." Maggie said.

"We can burn the wound to clot the blood. I'll start a fire." Carol said.

"No, don't do that!" Billy said.

"The shock could kill him." Lilly said with words made of ice. "It's not gonna stop the arteries from bleeding. We need to just keep it dressed and let it heal on its own."

"Oh, God…" Beth murmured, as Glenn pressed two fingers against Hershel's jugular. Weak pulse.

"Ew…" Clementine grumbled from outside the cell, shifting her gaze away from the gory sight. She sauntered away. Maybe now it was time to wake up Lee.

Molly and Omid returned, their arms full of blankets and pillows. They dropped them in a pile next to the improvising doctor. Lilly put a pillow underneath his severed leg, then folded the blankets and sheets around the stump with rapid gestures, which made her drop the rolls of tissue several times, inducing her to groan a swear. The others stared at her, not able to take their eyes off, somewhat calm but aware of what could happen. Lilly exhaled, withdrawing her hands. His stump was covered with a bulk of greying tissue, but as she expected, the blood was seeping out the bandaging. Just as the stress waved in the room, Lee strolled by the cell, yawning, shattering the tension.

"What's with the ruckus, something-?"

He laid eyes on Hershel laying on the bed, a shiver vibrating his spine. There was a huge blank in the place of his left leg.

"Oh, shit! What the fuck happened?!" Lee said, while Clementine stood by him with a lowered head, her hat hiding her eyes.

"Got bit. Rick took his leg, like he did to you." Kenny said.

Travis turned to Beth. "See, Beth? Lee made it when he was bit and got his arm chopped. Your pops will be fine. I know it's scary and all, but he'll be alright."

Beth smiled, wiping her tears. "Thanks."

* * *

Night had fallen and obscured the whole cell block. Candles were scattered in the corners of the living space, shining an eerie, phantasmagoric glow, drawing shadows on the naked walls. Hershel was still unconscious yet stable, and they had done everything they could, so they let him slumber with his son and daughters by his side. The group was holed up in their cells, drifting off into another night's sleep in their bunk-beds. Rick and Lee sat on the perch, insomnia sucking out the somnolence from their bodies. They didn't feel very talkative, the day's events seeming so surreal and spaced out in their minds. But those things really happened, in just half a day. Daryl and Kenny slept with one eye open in the visitor room, in case the prisoners showed up.

"There is something else that happened down there." Rick said.

"What did?" Lee said.

"We found six guys trapped in the cafeteria. From what I understood, they've been in there since the beginning."

"Prisoners or guards?"

"Prisoners, definitely."

"Shit…" Lee mumbled. "What you do to them?"

"They're in the cafeteria, but they might have come out. If they've made it this long locked in there, it means they have a lot of food. We'll have to go there tomorrow, see how Hershel heals up. God…"

"But what will we do to them?"

"I don't think the fact that they're criminals makes them less trustworthy. But we still shouldn't trust them. One of them, Tomas, had a handgun and was jumpy. He gives me a bad feeling. From the little I saw, the others seemed more peaceful. But at first, they all look that way, don't they?"

"I trust your judgment."

"I want you to come with me tomorrow. You've always been good at knowing when to trust people."

Lee sighed, his eyes swaying towards a vacant spot in the distance. "Not always…not always…"

* * *

Chris and Julie sat in the dark shower room, their backsides freezing from the tiled floor, sweat dripping off their naked bodies that gleamed in black and white in the moonlight, the silence so profound that they could listen to their hearts beating. Smiles adorned their lips, dopamine and bliss filling the ambiance like a pleasant high. There was nothing but their mutual love pumping in their veins, and nothing had ever been so perfect in their lives. Despite this, Chris felt insecurity wash over him, tearing off his smile as he adjusted his glasses. To him, the experience had been great, but what about her?

"How was it?" Chris said, wincing as he feared getting a negative response from her.

Julie chuckled, her eyes rolling over the ceiling. "It was perfect."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"A little, but…it's okay."

"But you liked it. You swear?"

Julie leapt towards him, knocking him down with a strong hug. "I loved it…and I love you. It was perfect. Exactly how I always imagined it."

Chris grinned, relieving a long breath. "Are you ready? Are you ready to do this?"

"Yeah, I think I'm ready. Let's do it."

The two teenagers reached towards a soap stand, where they had left their two pistols. They each took one, then got on their feet.

"Alright. No backing down. This is it." Chris said.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: P****eople! I, as your canine prophet, have something very important to announce! Season 3, Episode 1, "Seed", contains one of the funniest unintentional moments in the series that is actually very subtle. If you watch the episode and go to the 39:59 mark, after Glenn and Maggie have been cut off by a horde from the others in the tunnels, Rick says, "Where's Glenn and LAGGIE?". It's really fucking funny and I recommend you see it for yourself, it's subtle so it explains why no-one noticed it and another take wasn't shot.**

**Also, I apologize for the delay. But I write a lot and very fast, so on occasion I'll hit a bit of burnout and get a huge writer's block, which was the case here. I also apologize for the shortened length, but it would've taken forever to edit the whole chapter, and it's already been too much time since my last upload.**


	59. Pact With The Devil

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME/SEASON/EPISODE 4 - WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 59 - PACT WITH THE DEVIL**

The night in the cell block resonated with a troubled serenity. The safe edifice distanced them from the cataclysm outside that worsened day by day, but it had been a long time ever since they had the chance to sleep without worrying, so they tossed about in their bunk-beds, their muscles refusing to lower their guard. Hershel hadn't opened his eyes yet but his bleeding had eased, the layers of tissue crusted with his blood around the stump. Maggie, Beth and Billy had sat by their father during the evening, but their heavy need to slumber drifted them away.

Everything seemed to come to a standstill during the night.

A gunshot quaked the prison.

Lee sprang up, warping back to the real world. His brain reverberated in his head and his surroundings were nothing but dark contours. He threw aside his sheets and reached for his handgun with automatic gestures, without thinking. A part of his mind was still numbed by lethargy, but the other was following old survival instincts. He pivoted towards the upper bunk-bed. Clementine's golden eyes shined in the darkness.

"Stay here, Clem!" Lee said with phlegm in his throat.

He dashed outside, his tired brain being assaulted by brusque wakeup call and the whispers coming from the other cells. The group was dangling from their cell doors with wide gazes. Rick thundered down the perch stairs with his revolver, in boxers and t-shirt like Lee. No word was needed for the both of them to rush towards the exit in unison. Daryl and Kenny were on their feet, their weapons aimed towards the hallway, where they pinpointed the source of the gunfire.

"Don't leave this room! Protect the others if something happens!" Rick said.

The duo ran down the hallway. They halted near one of the shower rooms. Someone was inside, sobbing with hiccups and groans. Their minds were boggled with theories but they couldn't conclude with logic what had happened. They approached the entrance, slowing down each step as if their consciences pulled them away from the horror that surely awaited them inside. They flicked their eyes inside the shower room. Their blood cemented into ice, freezing every inch of their bodies – their hanging jaws, their zigzagging lips and their twisted frowns.

Tyreese was on his knees, cradling a naked Julie in her arms, who had a crimson hole in her chest that shimmered a ruby glow in the moonlight. Chris was curled into the corner, bare-skinned, clutching onto a handgun with an indescribable dread leaking from his strangled whimpers. Rick and Lee didn't budge, their respiration stopping and cold sweats frosting their spines, their bodies benumbed as their minds were attached to the scene and nothing else existed.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this…" Chris mumbled.

Tyreese yanked his head towards him, his humid face glinting with tears now strained with fury. "What did you do to my little girl?!"

"It wasn't supposed to be like this…we were supposed to be together, forever." Chris murmured like a prayer. "Fire at the same time. It was going to work…together forever…I just pulled the trigger too fast…faster than her…supposed to be at the same time…together forever…together forever. Now I'm all alone…what have I done…? Supposed to fire at the same time."

Tyreese hissed as he turned back to his daughter, his fury melting momentarily while his tone softened. "Come back to me baby…you gotta come back to me…I don't care how…just come back to me…come back…"

Rick and Lee pieced together the events in their heads, but they couldn't believe it once they understood the whole backdrop. Lee remained densified, but Rick knew he had to intervene and not just watch. As the shock eased and leaked out of his body, he stepped forward, repossessing a blank visage.

"Tyreese…you don't want her to be one of those things." Rick said.

Tyreese aimed a pistol at him. The two men jumped back, putting their hands in front of them. "Shut up! You don't know what you're fucking talking about!"

Julie's eyes spanned open, her pupils diluted to a grey color, an off-key moan weaving out of her mouth. Her arms lurched towards Tyreese. He squealed, falling back onto the tile floor. Julie pinned him down, but he held her up by pushing her up by the shoulders. Her hands flailed in the air, a warm breath escaping through her lips.

"Julie, honey, it's me! Your father!" Tyreese said, receiving a growl as a response.

Lee and Rick aimed at the head of the reanimated girl, but it was only a few inches away from the man's.

"Tyreese! Get her head up so I can get a clear shot!" Rick said. Lee ran towards the zombified teenager.

"Don't you kill her!" Tyreese shouted, halting Lee dead in his tracks. "This is my baby girl! She's okay! Let me talk to her! We've never tried that! We've never even tried to reason with them! Maybe…if I talk to her long enough, she'll begin to understand again! If she starts to understand, then she…then my baby girl won't be dead anymore-"

The shower room was rattled with a gunshot, lighting it up with a flash for a millisecond. A splash of blood gushed out of Julie's skull as she grew quiet, her body no longer resisting to Tyreese's clutch. Tyreese lost his words as his eyes were fixated on Julie's white and hollow gaze. He stayed paralyzed while her blood and brains dripped onto his face. Lee spun his head towards Rick. He shook his head at him, and his revolver was hanging low. He turned to Chris. The barrel of his pistol was smoking, his arms trembling and the fear reflecting off the lenses of his glasses.

Tyreese wriggled his way out from beneath his daughter, his eyes darting towards Chris. Something exploded inside him as his rage grew immeasurable. "I'll kill you!"

Tyreese shoved Chris onto the ground. Lee reached for him. "Tyreese, don't…!"

Tyreese shot him a glare lit up with flames. Lee withdrew his hand. Rick stood afar off, feeling that he would truly kill them if they interfered. It had been a long time ever since the sheriff felt intimated by someone else. Rick signaled his friend to stay back. Lee opened his mouth, but then looked at Tyreese. He couldn't yank that mass of muscle off of the teenager, and he would get his face bashed in if he tried to.

But he had to try. He was going to kill a teenager. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't.

Lee marched towards Tyreese. "Don't-!"

Tyreese swung his arm around, his fist landing on his stomach. Lee bent his half, the oxygen sucked out of his lungs, feeling like a brick had hit him. Lee backed away a few steps before crumbling onto his knees, his mouth gaping open as he struggled to inhale breaths, the saliva sliding out of his lips. Tyreese glared another warning at him, before turning to Chris again. Lee's entrails were being scrambled inside him, triggering his gag reflex and making him suffocate for a few seconds. Rick put his hand on his shoulder as the two set their stares on Tyreese.

Tyreese tightened his fingers around Chris' neck. The teenager squirmed with his legs, gurgling on his spit as the world blurred out. His strangled gurgles went away and his legs went limp. But Tyreese didn't stop. He kept squeezing his neck, his nostrils flaring and growling like an enraged dog.

Lee raised his hand, his insides firing up due to the punch and the disgust from what the man was doing. "Stop…just…stop…"

"Stop, Tyreese." Rick said. "He's dead. You killed him. Dear God, man…you killed him."

"Yeah." Tyreese said without a shred of emotion. "Leave me. He'll be coming back soon. And I'm going to kill him again. Slower this time. I'll burn them both tomorrow, first thing in the morning. We can talk about this then."

Lee and Rick glanced at each other. Leaving him there didn't seem right. But what could they do? Any kind of interference would be dealt with a hail of crushing punches from the bulky man. Rick pulled Lee up to his feet and they dragged their feet out of the shower room. They hunkered their heads as the image of the naked, dead teenagers flashed in front of their eyes like a projection in the darkness of the night.

"We—we—we just watched a man k—kill a boy in front of us—" Lee stuttered.

"We couldn't have done anything to avoid it." Rick said. "But at least…he's not alone. He's with Julie now."

Kenny and Daryl stared at them, a tumor inside them urging them to ask what glimpse of madness had left them mentally brutalized.

"The fuck happened?" Kenny asked.

His words flew by them as they wandered back into the cell block. Kenny and Daryl shared a worried glance before walked behind them. The sets of eyes speckling the penumbra were riveted towards them, the anticipation growing inside them as they awaited them to announce the bad news. Lori strolled towards Rick holding a blanket around her, while Molly walked towards Lee.

"Rick, what happened?! What's going on?!" Lori asked.

"Lee! What's happening?!" Molly asked.

Rick and Lee looked at each other. Rick nodded, feeling like he should be the one to say it.

"It's—it's horrible." Rick said. "Chris and Julie…they killed each other. Some sort of suicide pact. Thought they could be together forever if they did this…"

"Tyreese was already there when we got there." Lee said, his eyes glinting as Lori wrapped her arms around her husband. "He found the bodies. We were…there…when they came back. Tyreese is…dealing with it…we just…we just thought it was better to leave him alone…"

The shock wave blasted them without a noise, sucking the words out of their mouths. Perhaps they didn't know the teenagers very well, but the thought that such a horrid thing happened around the corner, about twenty steps away from them, sent chills down their spines and dried their throats. Despite this, that feeling of disgust evacuated their bodies after a few seconds, almost as if this wasn't the first time they had dealt with messed up shit, and each time, it was getting a bit easier to handle it.

"Oh, God." Glenn mumbled.

"I…I need to sleep. We all do…" Rick said.

* * *

Rick slithered out of bed and got dressed, once sunup broke in the morning. He hadn't shut his eyes during the whole night and he waiting for the slightest light to have an excuse to leave his bed. Looking through the frosted-glass windows, he discerned smoke outside. He headed for the perch, tiptoeing over a sleeping Lilly and climbing down the stairs with cat steps. He traversed the visitor room, seeing Kenny and Daryl fallen on the table, snoring. He headed outside into the pale, early daylight, spotting the source of the smoke.

Tyreese was in the main yard, standing in front of the pyre of walkers they gathered the previous day. They were burning up in flames, that created waves in the air, and Julie and Chris laid on the top of the pile, the fire scorching them away. Rick opened the courtyard gate and sauntered towards him. His anger seemed to have dissipated, but he looked somewhat calm, even to the extreme. He had a straight posture and seemed invigorated, although it hadn't even been twenty-four hours ever since his daughter died.

"I would have, if you had said something, I would have helped you." Rick said. "You didn't have to bring them out here all by yourself."

"This was something I had to do alone."

"I told the others that they killed each other, and then they both turned. I don't think they'd understand. But I understand. I want you to know that."

"Thank you, Rick. And Lee?"

"I'm not sure. Lee might not accept what you did. He's more black and white than I am."

"I get it if he holds it against me." Tyreese said, turning to the sheriff with a smile, which almost stunned him. "C'mon, let's get back. There's a lot to do today."

"Tyreese, I don't expect you to do any…" Rick said, the startle of the man's joyous nonchalance cutting off his sentence. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Rick. Really." Tyreese beamed.

* * *

Footsteps and hushed conversations echoed in the hallway. Daryl and Kenny jolted awake, standing up and reaching for their respective crossbow and rifle. They knew who it was. Daryl set a foot on top of the stool and aimed his crossbow down at the hallway. Tomas showed up, with the other prisoners behind him. He had his pistol tucked into his belt, at least, instead of waving it around. He tried to peek into the cell block, but Daryl stopped him.

"That's far enough." Daryl said.

"Cell Block C. Cell 4, that's mine, gringo." Tomas said. "Let me in."

"Tomas, c'mon, these folks have got a lot of shit on their hands, we'll come back later once it's a better time." The dark, bald guy said.

"Shut up, Dexter." Tomas whispered at him.

"Next time you tell me to shup up-" Dexter spat.

"Today's your lucky day, fellas!" Daryl announced in a gleeful tone. "You've been pardoned by the state of Georgia, you're free to go."

"What you got going on in there?" Tomas asked.

"It ain't none of your concern, beaner!" Kenny said.

"Whatcha call me, chulo?!" Tomas said, taking out his pistol.

"Chill, man. Dude's leg is messed up." Axel said.

"Besides, we're free to go. What the hell are we doing in here anyway?" Vince said.

"Man's got a point." Daryl said.

"A group of civilians breaking into a prison where they got no business…got me thinking maybe there is no place for us to go." Tomas said.

"Why don't you go find out?" Kenny said.

"Maybe we'll just be going now, you follow me?" Axel said.

"Ax is right, let's go back, we'll talk to these whiteboys later." Dexter said.

"Hey, we ain't leaving." Tomas said.

Lee marched out of the cell block, brandishing his Glock at them, just as Rick and Tyreese came in through the door. "You sure as hell ain't coming in here either!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Rick said, imposing himself between the two factions and stretching out his arms to both sides. "Everyone relax! There is no need for this!"

"How many of you are in there?" Tomas asked.

"Too many for you to handle." Rick said, jerking his neck.

"You guys rob a bank or something?"

"Ain't nobody steal a bank with a crossbow, son." Dexter snorted. "But I guess Axel would be the one to know about heists."

"Why don't y'alls take him to a hospital?" The dreadlocks guy said.

Rick eyed each of his friends, who returned his glance. They were truly out of contact with reality. Lee peered inside the cell block. The group was awakening from the noise, standing outside their cells.

"How long have you been locked in that cafeteria?" Rick asked.

"Going on about five months." Tomas said, his tone softened but he still kept his gun up.

"A riot broke out, ain't never seen anything like that." The dreadlocks guy said.

"Attica on speed, man." Axel said. "We saw the reports on TV, that's all. We've been holed up in here, no contact with the outside world. We don't know what's going on outside."

"One guard looked out for us. Locked us in the cafeteria. Told us to sit tight, threw me this piece, said he'd be right back." Tomas said.

"Yeah, and that was a hundred and forty one days ago." Vince said.

"Ninety eight according to my calcu-" Axel said.

"Shut up!" Tomas said.

"There is no government." Rick said. "No army. No police. No hospitals. It's all gone. Any trace of civilization, disappeared. Those things you heard about on TV, cannibals, people eating each other…those monsters are everywhere. Least half of the population must have been wiped out, maybe more. Nowhere is safe. Except here."

Their eyes spanned wide open, not a word leaving their lips. Lee pictured the imagery going through their heads – the hope of seeing their families again shattered, and of anything else of worth they held on the outside world, along with a gulp of denial destabilizing the shock of the news. It was just like Lee had felt when he woke up in that hospital, only to discover that he no longer lived in the same world.

"For real?" Axel said.

"Yeah, there's nothing out there but them. The zombies." Lee said.

Dexter cleared his throat, stepping forward as Tomas lowered his gun.

"Well, who would know? Seems like we've served our time." Dexter said, stretching his right hand towards the sheriff. "I think us and all a' y'all got off on the wrong foot here. The name's Dexter. The biker's Axel, the junkie's Andrew, the nerd's Thomas, chopsticks is Bad Luck Vince – he'll tell you a funny story about why we call him that – and the cocky tacohead with the gun is Tomas."

"Rick." The sheriff said as he shook his hand, peering towards his other hand to make sure he didn't grip a knife or shiv to stab him. "That's Lee, Daryl, Kenny and Tyreese."

"Great to meet y'all. Now, let's get to the chase. Y'all looks like thinner than toothpicks. When's the last time you ate?"

"Shit…before yesterday?" Lee said, while Daryl and Kenny lowered their weapons.

"Well, in the cafeteria, we gotta a lifetime's supply of food. Why don't y'all get everyone and come with us, eat something? Andrew's already got breakfast cookin'. Then, I can show you around the place."

Rick nodded, somewhat wary of his hospitality but knowing that he couldn't keep his group starving for much longer. "That'd be nice."


	60. What Needs To Be Done

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 60 – WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE**

**AUTHOR NOTE: Hello there, I would like to apologize for the delay in uploading the previous chapters, like I had previously said, I had some burnout from all the writing. And on another note, I've decided to start replying to guest reviews here, especially because I got two in the last chapters that felt necessary to showcase here with a reply.**

* * *

**Guest: "Please please (he says please for about twenty times) create a Lee x adult Clementine love story please (he says please for about twenty times again)".**

** Answer: Oh for fuck's sake, are you retarded or what?**

**Watchmen1985:** **"quick question big bad wolf i noticed in the comics and the tv show no prisoners survive well could you have vince survive the prison battle and stay with the group because i like vince he should have appeared more in walking dead plus i think glenn will enjoy his company even though hes korean he won't be the only guy in the group thats of asian or japense or korean decent"**

**Answer:**** Haha, this is great xD First of all, I'm nowhere near to planning the prison battle and I take the direction the story takes me, and second of all, I don't think that either Glenn or Vince feel lonely because they're the only Asians in their group xD**

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** Okay, now that we're done with that, enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Once the cafeteria was shadowed only by six mindless souls devoid of purpose, barely scraping by in the isolation of its walls, yet now the crowd within it stirred with clangs of silverware against plates and trays of smoking meat, almost like the correctional facility had been reborn, now offering shelter instead of jailing. Lilly stayed behind to watch over Hershel along with the old man's children, Glenn who consoled his girlfriend and Travis who served as the doctor's aide. The group spanned throughout the tables and each forkful of meatloaf gorged down warmed them up, satisfying a long empty stomach.

But the glee provided from the food supply was diminished by the unreliable company, their gazes often rolling over the prisoners, who sat a few tables distant from them. Tomas had made sure his revolver was noticeable on the table, and snorted as he shoved loafs of bread into his mouth, lowering any gazes directed towards him with a vivid glare. Despite the newfound, precarious coexistence, the rift between the two factions was felt. Besides a few conversations exchanged in mutters, silence reigned over the canteen so that the featherweight harmony wouldn't be shattered.

"I just know those fuckers are going to be trouble." Kenny said, his eyes riveted to the inmates while sitting with Lee, Clementine, Molly and Daryl.

"Shooting them sideway glares won't help." Lee said.

"Do you feel comfortable having them living under the same roof as you?!" Kenny spat, darting his eyes towards his friend.

"No. But just because they were in prison, doesn't mean they can't prove themselves to be trustworthy."

"If they ended up in the joint, that's already a red flag flashing at us." Daryl said.

"Maybe." Molly said. "I wouldn't trust them out of my sight, but Lee has a point. Heck, some of us might have done worse things than they have."

"Listen, Ken, we'll keep an eye on them. Especially on Tomas. But we can't jump to rash judgment." Lee said.

"Fine." Kenny grunted, twitching his lip. "But if they step out of line, you can bet they're ending up with their asses outside the fence."

Lee shook his head, knowledgeable of his friend's short fuse that only took a spark to ignite. He gawked at his plate, poking the meatloaf and eating not out of appetite and rather because of the sinking hole in his abdomen that broadened due to the hunger. His brain was still mangled by last night, blood splashing and gunshots roaring in his mind, along with the strangled gurgles of a suffocating teenager. He dangled on a tight balance, not knowing if he accepted what Tyreese did or not. What he did was cruel, violent, and wrong in so many ways. But he was blinded by the pain of losing his daughter, a pain that surely left a puncture in his heart that couldn't be patched.

He slipped himself inside his shoes. What if someone killed Clementine? Would he kill the murderer in such a brutal manner? He knew damn well he would. He did it so many times before. But what if the murderer was a young boy deranged by the mad world around him? He oscillated towards a no, which seemed the correct thing to think. But perhaps it would be a lie to think that. Despite seeming terrible to imagine such a thing, he concluded he would have done the same thing if his daughter was torn from him. Back in Savannah, he still recalled how his blood ran cold with anger when Ben almost left her for dead after they arrived at the city. Had she been taken away from him, his wrath would have met no limits.

For Clementine, there were no limits. He did what had to be done, no matter to which depths of evil he had to succumb. He blurred those thoughts, fearing going crazy if he obsessed over the past. He looked at the little girl, who had definitely grown a few centimeters in the past eight months, but barely reached the height of the table. She ate quietly, unaware of the turmoil going inside Lee's head and what happened last evening.

"How's the food?" Lee asked.

"It's great. Feels good to just eat something." Clementine said.

Rick set down his fork and knife as he finished his breakfast. His son and wife remained silent, and they had neither a subject to talk about nor the will to talk. Tyreese sat with them with an austere expression, and everyone avoided staring at him. Rick had to shatter the tension in the vast room. He had to break the silence, and perhaps establish some dialogue with their hosts. They surely felt the tension as well, and perhaps tried to think up of something to say themselves.

"Eat away, we got plenty." Dexter said, turning around towards the newcomers and flashing them a tooth-missing smile.

"How much do you have?" Rick asked.

"Probably enough to feed everyone in this room if all these seats had asses in them, and that's just the meatloaf. This place is stocked out the ass. We got enough food to feed the entire prison population for weeks. And just in case you haven't noticed, there was just the six of us in here."

"All these seats, uh?" Rick said.

"I don't suppose you're former guards, by any chance?" Dale said, his reluctant tone showing his own doubt in his words.

"Guards?!" Dexter said, bursting into laughter. "Oh, that's rich. Do we look like prison guards to you?"

"No, you really don't."

"You're inmates?! Prison inmates?!" Lori exclaimed, gunning the words at them. "What did you do?! What crimes did you commit?!"

"Armed robbery." Axel said.

"Tax fraud, but it wasn't my fault." Thomas said.

"Drugs, man." Andrew said with widened eyelids. "Possession, selling, stealing, I've done it all. But I'm clean now, totally clean. Gotta be, y'know."

"Murder." Dexter blankly said.

"Murder as well." Vince said.

The heads of everyone in the cafeteria sprang towards the two men, feeling like they had discovered that they were in the presence of serial killers like the ones from slasher movies.

"Murder?!" Kenny said.

"Listen, I'm not gonna fucking be judged by a single one of you." Vince said with a frown. "I killed some fucker that was messing with my brother. I wasn't just gonna let things lie."

"We know what you're thinking." Dexter smiled. "But you've got nothing to worry about unless you're my wife and her boyfriend. And you can't be them, because they're dead. So, relax. Besides, the one you should be worried about is Andrew here."

"Why's that?" Lee asked.

"He's the one that caused this whole living dead shit. Tell 'em, Andrew."

"Uh, yeah, it's, uh…it's like this, see? I was a hardcore user." Andrew said, intertwining his hand and hunkering his head. "Hardcore. I was a repeat offender, y'know? I was here for my second time. My life was a wreck, all cause 'a my addiction. I couldn't function, y'know. I was here again…I didn't know what to do. So I turned to God, if you can believe it. I asked Him, begged Him, to please get me off that smack. I wanted to go clean, once and for all. I knew I wouldn't be able to do it without His help. So I asked Him. And the next day, the news reports started. Now look at me. I'm completely clean. I couldn't—I couldn't get my hands on anything if I tried."

The group stayed reactionless to his far-fetched story, realizing now that it was just a cuckoo tale birthed from desperation, blind faith and coincidental timing. Dexter grinned, as if that story had become the running gag of their crew of hooligans. Lee turned to Tomas, who hadn't said what his crime was.

"What about you? What'd you do?"

"Rolled with a posse, that's all." Tomas grumbled, not shifting his eyes towards him.

Rick beamed his finger towards the freezer door. "What's in there?"

"Don't open that door!" Dexter said, stretching out his hand. "You don't want to go in there!"

Suspicion braided into Rick. They were hiding something and he had to know what was behind the door. He got up brusquely and stormed towards the door. He gripped the handle, bracing himself for whatever gory sight awaited him beyond the steel door.

"He gonna regret it…" Axel mumbled.

He opened a crack, and his nostrils were invaded by a foul odor. The disease infected his lungs and made him stagger back. He shut the door, choking in tears, his bile burning up in his stomach while the prisoners guffawed at him.

"He wanted to know!" Tomas cackled.

"I told ya." Dexter said. "That's the shitter, man. We was pissing and shitting in a bucket for a couple of days after we was locked in here. But that wasn't working, ain't much ventilation in here, y'know. Since the electricity was out, we figured the freezer was useless. But it's air tight, and we ran out of buckets a long time ago."

"Sheesh." Rick said.

"So, do you want to take a look around the prison?"

"Okay, we'll go." Rick said, walking towards Lee. "Lee, stay here and keep an eye on everyone. I'm still not trusting all of them. I'll take Dale with me."

"Got you." Lee said.

"Good, good. Also, Lee, I need you to keep an eye on Tyreese. He's acting as though nothing happened. It's very unsettling. He just smiled at me. He looked at me and he smiled. I'm worried about him. Showing no emotion whatsoever, it makes me worry. Make sure he doesn't do anything dangerous."

"You know what he did. It's up to him to figure out how to deal with it." Lee said.

* * *

Rick and Dale followed Dexter down dark hallways, their flashlights illuminating the path. Their handguns were tucked in their belts, and their free hands posited on them. For all they knew, Dexter could try to lead them to a secluded location and jump them. Dexter marched without hesitating at each corner turn, the layout etched into his memory from the many years of walking within it, except this time he had a different perspective. It was devoid of any filthy pigs, of the bright, white lights and there were no shackles on him.

"Gym's up this way." Dexter said.

"Keep your eyes open. They don't move very fast but they could still be anywhere." Rick said.

"Be a little easier if I had one of those." Dexter said, glancing at his handgun. "But after the way Tomas was acting, I doubt you'd trust me enough to give me one."

"And you'd be right."

"What about things on my side? We don't know shit about you."

"We haven't shot you just yet, so you're just going to have to trust us."

"Whatever. Like I got a choice." Dexter snorted as they reached a set of doors, shut with handcuffs around the handles, but the key was sticking out of the keyhole. "This is it, but someone's cuffed the doors closed."

"Whoever it was left the key in them so they could be unlocked." Rick said.

He twisted the key, taking off the cuffs and opening the doors. The wide gymnasium unfolded in front of them, with weightlifting equipment, bleachers and a basketball field, but myriads of walkers shuffled inside, stinking up the air and revolving their heads towards them with empty yet intimidating glares. Rick and Dale shoved the doors closed, blinking.

"We'll, uh, deal with that later. What's next?" Rick asked.

"Good idea." Dexter said. "The laundry room is just up this way."

They turned around a corner, entering a tighter room, with rows of washing machines and dryers, along with a few laundry carts laying about full of dirty and clean clothes. Dale looked at the clothes, which were mostly white t-shirts and blue jumpsuits.

"The laundry room." Dexter said.

"Nice. These clothes aren't the most stylish of all but I know some of us could use a change." Dale said.

"C'mon, now, I think you're gonna like what I'm gon' show you next." Dexter smiled.

He led them through the labyrinth of hallways until they traversed a door, and a magnificent exhibit flaunted itself before them. They stood in a garage that had a ceiling flying high above their heads like a hangar, stocked with handfuls of prison buses, motorcycles and police cruisers lined up against the walls. Rick marveled, imagining the possibilities for more efficient supply hunts and faster traveling, and in the long-run, should the prison not be inhabitable anymore, a vessel to transport them safely to another destination.

"This is the garage. Never been in here." Dexter said.

"This stuff will come in handy, I'm sure." Rick said.

"Those buses are pretty big. If we ever leave here, one of them would be enough to get us out of here. Would be way better than my camper." Dale said.

"Damn, when was the last time we slept in your RV? I can't even remember."

"Eh, who knows? All I know is that the ol' carryall is long gone."

* * *

Rick watched his group flock back into the cell block after getting a warm meal to lift their spirits. He wanted to hash out some terms with the prisoners and had arranged with Lee, Daryl, Kenny and Tyreese to go meet them after making sure his group was safe in the block. But when he heard a choir of hurried footsteps resounding in the hallway, he guessed that they had already come to do that. Lee pushed the cell block door shut as Tomas barged into the visitor room, the other inmates chasing after him and yanking back his shoulder, but the Mexican gangster just brushed off their grip.

"Hey, gringos, we got some unfinished business to talk about, no?!" Tomas said.

"What the fuck do you want?" Kenny asked.

"Damn, Tomas, just calm the fuck down." Axel said.

"I think you guys are forgetting…this is our prison." Tomas continued, ignoring the biker. "We were here first. That's our cell block, and I want in."

"You'll just have to find somewhere else to stay." Lee said.

"Hey, man, that's my cell block!" Tomas said, pulling out his pistol and triggering Kenny and Daryl to brandish their guns. "I got personal items in there! That's as mine as it gets!"

"Trapped in a broom closet?" Rick chuckled. "We set you free."

"Whoa, whoa!" Axel said, stepping in between the two groups with a nervous smile. "Maybe let's try to make this work out so everybody wins."

"I don't see that happening." Tomas said.

"Neither do I." Rick said.

"There are other cell blocks." Axel said.

"You could leave! Try your luck out on the road." Daryl said.

Tomas eyed the sheriff and his prison mates, clouting his reluctance to survive in the wilderness. He snorted, holstering his gun. "If these pussies can do it, the least we can do is take out another cell block."

"With what?" Vince said.

"Sheriff here will spot us some real weapons. Won't you, boss?" Tomas said.

"Ain't no way in hell." Kenny said.

Rick jerked his neck. He didn't want to lend them weapons, but they couldn't clear out their cell block otherwise, and he wasn't going to do all the work for them. He couldn't give them guns, he would just have to provide them with blades and blunt weaponry. But since he had the chance, he was going to get milk their agreement for something more.

"The food in the cafeteria? We'll take half. In exchange, we'll help y'all clear out another cell block. You'll live there and you'll keep to it."

"Alright." Tomas said.

"Now you're going to give us guns?" Dexter asked.

"Not guns. Weapons." Lee corrected.

"Well, seeing we've reached a deal, let's be clear. If we see you out here anywhere near our people, if I so much catch a whiff of your scent, I will kill you." Rick said.

"Whole lot of hostility, seeing how hospitable we were." Dexter remarked, folding his arms with a frown.

"We don't have an issue with you. We have an issue with this guy." Rick said, locking his stare with Tomas.

* * *

Lilly changed the towel on Hershel's stump for the third time, the bare flesh squishing and jetting as the tissue pressed against it. _Will the blood ever stop? _She had no disgust for the gore since she was too numb inside, but her arms grew tired and her sighs increased at the rate of her annoyance. Travis took a knee beside her, providing her with towels and sheets when the need arose. Maggie and Glenn stood with their back glued to the wall, her glassy eyes fixated on their father's serene face while he caressed her shoulder. His heart stung for her, but as time passed, she seemed to grow stronger and her sorrowful frown softened into blankness. He didn't know if she was growing stronger or she began to calmly accept her father's possible fate, but he was glad that she kept a level head, especially when they rushed Hershel to the cell block. The others had returned from the cafeteria and they heard Rick having some kind of dispute with the prisoners in the visitor room.

"I brought this for you all." Andrea said, dropping a few meat cans by the door.

"Thanks." Travis said, his arm asleep from spending so much time leaning against the bunk bed. Andrea nodded before walking away. "God, the blood has to stop eventually."

"Once we get him through this, we're gonna need crutches." Lilly said. "But with the kind of supplies we have here…it's hard to stanch his bleeding. We could use painkillers, sterile gauze…if only we knew where the infirmary is in this place."

"Were you a nurse or something before?"

"No. Now shut up and let me focus."

"It was stupid of us to let him come." Maggie said, teary eyed as Glenn pulled her in for a tight hug. "We cleared this whole cell block, just the six of us."

"It could've happened to anyone." Glenn said.

"What're we gonna do without him?"

"Hey." Glenn said, distancing himself from her with a grip on her shoulder and a sturdy look towards her glimmering eyes. "Lee made it through and we didn't have a whole lot of supplies back then as well. He's still here."

"W-what if he does wake up?" Maggie sniffled. "Then, what? H-he can't even walk. All we do is run."

"Hey…this won't break him. Okay? He's got you, and Beth, and Billy. And with this prison, maybe we won't need to run anymore. Why don't you go check on your brother?"

Maggie nodded and lowered her emerald gaze, shuffling out of the cell. Billy was pacing around, hisses steaming out of his lips and grumbling profanity under his breath, his fingers clenched into fists. She predicted that he would react in such a manner, since it seemed like all of his emotions broke down into bitterness and fury.

"You okay?" Maggie asked.

"God, Maggie…I'm just so angry he's like this." Billy muttered. "And worried. I can't stand to see him like that. And standing around here, doing nothing, it sure as hell ain't helpin'. If only I could go out there and bash some skulls in for pops..."

"Hey, Lilly?" Travis said, looking around and not seeing the blonde he was searching for. "Where's Beth?"

"I haven't taken my eyes off him. I don't know." Lilly sighed.

"Mind if I step out for a while?"

"Whatever."

* * *

Travis halted in front of one a cell, spotting Beth inside. She was tearing the leg from a pair of pants with scissors, humming a tune. Travis frowned, dazzled by the change of behavior. Just a while ago, she was unstable and bathed in tears, but now she was nonchalant and disconnected from the current situation – perhaps a consequence of denial of any possible bad outcome for her dad. Travis was sure Hershel would pull through, but her shift in attitude bothered him a bit.

"What you, uh, what you doing?" Travis asked.

"He's gonna have a hard time walking around with one side of his pants dragging around." Beth said. "You know, he could trip or something."

"That's real thoughtful of you." Travis said, stepping outside to let her do her tailoring work, as an idea popped into his head. "I'm sure he'll be okay."

* * *

Rick, Lee, Daryl, Kenny and Tyreese entered the cell block, some of their friends huddling around them to know what had been discussed. Rick turned to Kenny. "Kenny, go fetch some weapons."

"This is gonna bite us in the ass later…" Kenny grumbled, walking away.

"What are you going to do?" Molly asked.

"We're gonna help those inmates clear their own cell block. Then, they'll be there and we'll be here." Lee said.

"You think it's possible for us to live in peace with those people?" Molly said.

"I'm not sure. I'm not sure if it'll work out. We'll see." Rick said.

"Well, I'm going with you. I don't trust these people." Molly said.

"While you're going to help them out, maybe some of us could clear out the gym." Andrea said. "It'll be one less area to clear."

"Seems like a plan. But be careful." Rick said.

"I could go with her." Tyreese said.

"Yeah, sure. I'll be at ease knowing you'll be there." Rick said.

Billy Greene stopped his pacing, snapping his head towards Maggie. "That's what I'm gonna do. I'll go with Andrea."

"What? Daddy wouldn't have wanted…" Maggie said.

"Mag, I'm going crazy in here! I…I just need to blow off some steam."

Kenny assembled an arsenal of two baseball bats, two fire pokers, a machete and a screwdriver. "I still can't believe we're giving those guys weapons."

"If we don't, it'll be up to us to clear out their cell block. And I'm not doing all of their dirty work for them." Rick said.

"Hey, yo! You done jerking each other off back there? We got a cell block to clear!" Tomas shouted.

* * *

As they marched deeper into the verisimilar hallways, the darker they became, but their flashlights illuminated their path towards the neighboring cell block. Rick, Lee, Daryl, Kenny and Molly lagged behind the prisoners who led their convoy, which would prevent them from attempting anything from their backs. Despite having their senses peaked to detect any limping silhouette lunging at them, their attention was mostly focused on Tomas. He could become the true danger, beyond the walkers, if they lowered their guard too much, especially because he still had his revolver.

"Why do I need this machete, when I got this?" Tomas said, aiming his finger towards his Smith &amp; Wesson.

"You don't fire a gun unless your back's against the wall." Daryl said. "Noise attracts them. Really riles 'em up."

"When we go in there, we hold formation, we don't break it." Rick said. "Anyone breaks ranks, we could all go down. Someone runs off, might be mistaken for a walker…gets an axe to the head."

"And that's where you have to aim. These things only go down with a headshot." Lee said.

"Ain't gotta tell us how to take out a man." Tomas said.

"These things aren't men. They're something else, you idiots." Molly said.

"Whoo, this one's got a mouth on her."

"Shut up before I punch your teeth in." Lee growled.

"It's dark in here." Vince said.

"You'll hear 'em before you see 'em." Daryl said.

Moans resounded around the corner just as three lackadaisical cadavers dressed in jumpsuits stepped into view. Rick cracked open his lips, the order to attack about to slip from them, but the prisoners erupted with war cries and rushed forward, aside from Thomas. Dexter shoved a walker against the wall, bashing its head in with his baseball bat. Andrew held the other walker from behind by its arms, while Axel tore its guts apart with a fire poker. Tomas and Vince kicked the last zombie to the ground, kicking it and caving in its rib cage with their blades. Thomas hung back, scratching his head and gulping down his saliva. Rick, Lee, Daryl, Kenny and Molly viewed the spectacle, paralyzed, not knowing how to react to their idiocy.

"I swear to God, these idiots couldn't get more stupid." Molly said, slapping her own face.

Lee and Molly stepped into the scene, deciding to finish the ridiculousness. Lee drove his machete through the skull of the walker that Andrew held back, while Molly stomped in the skull that Tomas and Vince were kicking.

"We could've done it without your help, bitch." Tomas said.

"Just fucking go forward and pull your heads out of your asses." Kenny said.

Tomas spat on the ground before storming further down the tunnel, leading away the others with a bloodied face and tank top. His eyes had an eerie glow after the short burst of violence, perhaps craving for more, and he twitched his machete in his hand.

"You okay?" Lee asked.

"Just waiting for the moment we get rid of that pig." Molly said.

"Y'all seen the look on his face?" Kenny asked.

"He makes one move, just give the signal." Rick said.

They entered a laundry room that led to the cell block through a set of closed doors. A herd's presence was audible beyond them as their growls seeped into the room. Kenny tugged back the door, but it remained in place. Lee looked around, seeing a keyring on top of a dryer. He took the keys and tossed them at Tomas' feet. He glanced at them, before snapping his glare back up at the man.

"I ain't opening that." Tomas said.

"This is your cell block." Lee said. "You want it, you're opening that door. Just one, not both of them. Because we need to control this."

"Go ahead." Rick said.

Tomas eyed the two men, staring at them with a persistent defiance. He stayed pinned in place for awhile, before squatting and taking the keys. He strolled towards the door slowly, sliding the key in the hole. He twisted them, but kept the doors shut. He pivoted his head around, peeping at each of the individuals in the room. Lee grunted, he was just stalling time for no reason.

"You bitches ready?" Tomas asked.

He yanked back both doors, the walkers flooding the laundry room. Everyone hurtled towards the horde, swinging their weapons.

"We said one door!" Rick shouted.

"Shit happens!" Tomas shouted.

Daryl growled, enraged that he couldn't end him right there and now, but the walkers were the emergency that needed containing. Time sped up with the fast paced battling, everyone standing in a line to bar the income of walkers. Lee glanced at Tomas, only to see his machete drawing an arc in the air, and him in the middle of the trajectory. He lurched his head back, the blade blowing wind into his face. He straightened his posture, glaring at him, but he just peered at him and shrugged. Tomas faced the nearest zombie and hopped behind it, stabbing it through the spine and directing the walker towards Lee with a shove. Lee barely had the time to raise his hand to hold back the walker before he tumbled to the ground, the living corpse pinning him down and clicking its jaws.

"Lee!" Molly called out.

Molly planted her pickaxe in the walker's brains, pulling it off him. Lee wiped a splash of blood from his face before getting up, a sibilance leaking from his lips. The fighting came to a halt as all the undead laid dead, a mass of corpses littering the floor with hollowed eyeballs staring into a void. Tomas remained calm as gazes fell upon him and Lee marched towards him, keeping a straight face.

"It was coming at me, bro." Tomas said.

"Yeah." Lee said with a smile. "Yeah, I get it."

The two men stayed trapped in a deadlock, their stares tightly sealed. Tomas panted, but Lee didn't budge a muscle. What was he going to do with this guy? Despite a part of him convincing him that there was another way, his mind was clear and sensible, and his grip tightened on the wooden handle of his machete. It was just what needed to be done. What he always did.

"Shit happens."

His arm veered in a circle and the blade buried into Tomas' head. A final breath hissed out of him as his eyes rolled in his skull. Andrew jumped back and squealed, as the other prisoners widened their eyelids. Lee's lips jiggled as a river of blood flowed down his victim's face. He kicked down the corpse and yanked back his machete, gazing at him with indifference while he ignored the scene unfolding around him. Rick, Kenny and Daryl whipped out their guns, beaming them toward the prisoners.

"Put the fucking weapons on the ground, now!" Kenny shouted.

They dropped their weapons and raised their arms, getting down on their knees. Dexter and Vince sneered at them, while Andrew, Thomas and Axel had eyes that shimmered.

"We don't have no affiliation to what just happened!" Axel cried. "Tell 'em, Vince! Dexter!"

"Stop talking, man." Vince deadpanned.

"Hey, man, we had nothing to do with that!" Dexter said.

"Oh, yeah? You didn't know?" Rick said, walking around the kneeled prisoners with his Colt Python.

"Man, I showed you around the prison! I shared my meatloaf with your people! This the thanks we get?!" Dexter said.

"C'mon, man, we didn't even like that crazy motherfucker!" Andrew said. "We were just stuck with him! Ain't nobody liked Tomas!"

"I think we oughta just pop 'em all, right here, right now!" Kenny said, his handgun looking down at Axel.

"Hey, please, please, listen to me!" Axel said. "It was him who was bad! It wasn't us!"

"Oh, that's convenient!" Rick said.

"I swear, we ain't like that! I'm no killer! We ain't the violent kind, he was!"

Lee snapped out of his trance and put his hand on Kenny's shoulder. "Listen, just because Tomas was like that, it doesn't mean we should kill these people. We can't just execute everyone we meet because we're suspicious."

"Axel says you ain't the violent kind." Kenny said. "But we've got two murderers here, how can we trust you?"

"You're being a damn hypocrite right now. That nigga over there just hacked Tomas' skull in half!" Dexter said.

"What about you?" Rick said, turning towards Vince who hadn't said much. "What do you gotta say?"

"I ain't never pleaded for my life. And I ain't about to start now. So you do what you gotta do."

Rick jerked his neck. He knew that killing them was the safest option, but he wasn't a murderer of innocent people, and he still clutched to the belief that slaughtering them wouldn't be correct. He sheathed his revolver, signaling his friends to do the same. Lee nodded at him, glad that he was able to be merciful.

"Get up. This is your cell block from now on." Rick said.

The inmates got up and turned around, tiptoeing over the rotting corpses. The cell block was equal to theirs, in layout and in their initial state – there were dead bodies everywhere, with skulls carved open from suicidal bullets and cell doors dangling open. Axel looked around like he was inside a haunted place, the ghosts of the past still lingering about.

"I knew these people." Axel said. "They were good men."

"If they were in the joint, they weren't no good men." Kenny said.

"Ken." Lee hissed.

"Let's go." Rick gesturing his head towards the exit.

"Man, you just gon' leave us in here?" Dexter said.

"From now on, this part of the prison is yours." Rick said, tossing their cell block key to Vince. "Take it or leave it. That was the deal."

"You think this is bad? You don't wanna know how it's like outside." Daryl said.

"Consider yourselves the lucky ones." Molly said.

"Sorry about your friends, man." Daryl said with no emotion, vanishing away with the others.

The five prisoners exchanged glances, wondering what they would do next in a place so devoid of life.


	61. Heads Will Roll

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME/SEASON/EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 61 – HEADS WILL ROLL**

* * *

Travis and Ben walked down the dark tunnels. The cragged walls vented a cold humidity onto their skin, and the itch of a lurking menace stalking them often led their eyes turning past their shoulders. Ben held a flashlight, casting a cylinder of light on their path, his heart beating steadily yet strongly in his chest, like a baby kicking him from within. The stone surrounding them, reminiscent of ancient Greek passageways, chilled his spine, as if the prison was booby-trapped and with one wrong step they would set off a rigged shotgun or a trapdoor, or more realistically, a walker that would rush them from around the corner. But their hearing was the most reliable sense to pick up on a threat, yet the silence coupled with their imagination made them tense at the slightest noise, whether it was a water drop from a dank pipe or an imaginary buzzing in the distance. All that could protect them in there was their wits and the knives on their belts that they clutched tightly.

"Wanna tell me what we're doing here?" Ben murmured, not seeking to shake up the dead.

"Hershel needs real medicine." Travis said. "Rick and the others are dealing with the cons, Andrea and Tyreese and the others went to clear the gym, and everyone else is occupied with taking care of the old man. We couldn't just hang back, doing nothing. We're looking for the infirmary, see if we find bandages or antibiotics."

"Don't you think we should've brought someone else, or told someone?" Ben said in frightened whispers, struggling to keep his tone down. "This creeps me out. W—what if we stumble into a—a horde or something?!"

"Look, man, I'll admit, I'm a bit chicken here too." Travis said. "We just have to keep a clear head and be smart. They might have creepy growls and eerie looks, but we got something they don't. Speed and smarts. Unless they have the numbers…then we're screwed."

"Freaking hell…"

"Chill out. Keep your eyes peeled and things will be okay. Plus, I told Lilly we were going out."

"But you're just doing this for Beth, aren't you?"

"Shut up." Travis snorted, elbowing him. "At least I-"

"Hey, look."

Ben flicked the beacon over a windowed door, revealing a red cross drawn on it, along with a plaque identifying the room as an infirmary. Travis slithered to the window and remained behind the cover of the door, peeking through the glass. A frail and ashen light smeared through a window inside, revealing that if the infirmary was a cake, the dust would be the pervasive frosting. Within the untouched nursery, some of the mattresses were crusty with blood and the sheets were tangled throughout the floor, while most of the curtains were dangling from a few pins, as if they had been pulled down with vigor, aside from one bed that was still hidden by the hospital drapes. Pill boxes, syringes and small cardboxes were strewn across the floor, instead of belonging in the medicine cabinets, and Travis couldn't guess if any of that material would be useful. He would just have to take everything he could.

After scanning the surroundings, the real problem was highlighted. Two zombies inhabited the secluded location. Their lab coats sagged off their torsos and the edge of their jeans slid on the ground, as if they were wearing oversized clothes. Their hunkered gazes glowed white, their former life evaporated from their souls and leaving behind only a mindless shell. Travis quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. Had they shrunk in size? Was that perhaps one of the effects of decomposition? He didn't think so. But it seemed like those two walkers had been trapped in there for a while. Maybe they thinned out because there wasn't anyone to eat? Travis thought it was silly that undead corpses could starve, but if cadavers could walk nowadays, maybe anything was possible.

"We have to kill them, I suppose." Ben said, hiding hesitation in his tone.

"Of course." Travis said. "You okay for this?"

"Sort of. But we gotta have a plan. We just go in there and take them on?"

"Well, they're just two, not too complicated. We'll go in there, I'll kill the first one, and you'll rush in and kill the second one. Ready?"

"I'll…I'll do my best."

Travis revolved the handle and skidded the door back. The hinges creaked. He shut his eyes for a second, cursing under his breath. The two zombified doctors spun their heads towards the bait, their rusty vertebrae cracking. Their guttural growls lowered in pitch as they opened their jaws out wide, bridges of saliva connecting their teeth. Travis tightened his grip on the knife, his body advising him to back away, but he was determined to do it. Ben stared at the walkers, advancing in slow-motion, with a drooping lip, and took a step back. Travis held him in place by gripping his shoulder.

"No backing down." Travis said.

"Travis, I—I don't think I can do this." Ben said.

"The walkers are here to stay, Ben. We need to start getting used to ending them. Hershel needs this, Ben."

Ben took a deep breath. He was right. This was the world now. Killing. Just like he had ended that bandit in the woods. Just like he had offed those walkers through the fence during the prison takeover. And he didn't want to be an useless idiot anymore. The two teens wanted to lurch forward and terminate the lurkers, and get it over with, but their legs were riveted in place, fear delaying them. Travis tapped his fingers against his blade's handle, picturing his movements in his head.

There was a third moan on Ben's flank. His head twirled to the side, seeing a human silhouette sculptured on the hospital curtains as it rushed towards him. Ben shrieked, staggering with sloppy footing, but through the curtains the zombie grasped his shoulders, knocking him down. The curtains were snatched off the pins and fell on top of Ben like a deflated parachute. Ben detonated in panicked howls, his legs squirming and the veil of tissue blinding him and constraining him, while the mass of the third walker held him down.

Travis froze his knife in the air as he spun around towards the screams of his friend. He was trapped underneath fallen curtains, the shape of his body showing him squirming and kicking, his arms flailing in the air and brushing off a persistent zombie who was on all fours and wearing a patient gown, bending down to bite Ben, but being retained by his random slaps to its face. One of the doctor walkers shuffled towards the tumbled teenager, kneeling down, its jaws attracted to the teen's ankle who was sticking out of the curtains.

"Ben!" Travis shouted.

Travis darted one step forward before his arm was wrenched back, almost tipping him off his balance. The fraction of a second it took him to glance at Ben was enough for one of the doctor zombies to clasp his wrist. Travis tried to steady his arm with the knife, but the walker was tugging his arm, unbalancing him. Ben screamed his lungs out, in all kinds of different pitches. He was knitted into the curtains and if it weren't for the protective tissue, the walker's nails would have scratched him several times already, and he might have been infected.

Sets of teeth dug into his calf. The pain fired up his leg and a deafening shout blared through his mouth. Travis thrust the knife through the walker restraining him, then turned to his friend. He stabbed the doctor in the head, pushing him out of his way in a split second, and kicked off the reanimated patient, driving the knife through his temple. He turned to Ben and yanked the curtains off him. His cheeks shined with tears, his chest hyperventilating and his peeled eyes staring at the ceiling like he had seen something demonic, perhaps the face of death itself. His chest hurt and his lungs worked at over capacity. He babbled, as if he struggled to mouth words.

"M—My—my leg-"

Travis looked at his leg, foreseeing a bite mark. He sighed in relief. "You're good. It didn't cut through your jeans."

Travis hoisted him up. Ben's legs wobbled and he collapsed in one of the beds, trying to control his tears and his breathing.

"Fuck…fuck…fuck…th—that was…t—too…close!"

"Don't be such a downer. Look at the medicine." Travis said, picking medical boxes from the ground and shoving it into his pockets.

"Fuck you, Trav!" Ben exploded. "I'm…I don't even know why I listen to your awful ideas."

Travis spotted a duffel bag nearby. He squatted, taking handfuls of medicine boxes and stuffing them in the bag. "Bandages, pills, medkits…if only I knew what these pills do. We'll just take everything. Hey, a little hand here?."

* * *

Tyreese approached the handcuffs on the set of doors, fishing into his pocket for the tiny key. Echoes bounced off the walls as Andrea and Billy cocked their handguns, Chuck tapped his fingers against the pole of his shovel and Christa and Omid touched the edge of their makeshift spears. The growls beyond the walls were like a taunt, daring them to step into the warzone. The anticipation grew inside them, calm before the battle.

"Are you sure your dad would be okay with this?" Andrea asked.

"I couldn't stand seeing my pops like that. It was like I was suffocating in there. I'm good." Billy said, taking a deep breath and killing all other thoughts, focusing on the task at hand.

"Remember, Omid, stay close and be careful." Christa said in her sturdy, motherly-like tone.

"Don't worry too much, Christa. Remember when we fended off those walkers in that train station? I totally saved your ass." Omid chuckled.

"Yeah, right." Christa snorted. "How's your leg?"

"It's fine, like it never happened."

"Okay, we need to go in there ready to fire." Tyreese said. "We have to use our melee weapons as much as we can, though. This place is packed with them. There's probably a few right next to the door. I know we don't have many bullets left, so stay close to the door. If we run out, we just walk back out and lock the doors. Understood?"

Tyreese opened the doors. The moans became louder and the sight of handfuls of skinny walkers greeted them. In a group effect, the zombie slowly turned their heads towards the humans and shuffled towards them, dragging themselves across the basketball field. Andrea and Billy shot down a duo that was lurking too close to them, before the squad barged into the gymnasium with their weapons brandished. Tyreese rushed towards a zombie and vociferated a battle cry, pulverizing its cranium into a strawberry milkshake with a hammer blow.

"Let's clear an area around the door first, then we push forward!" Christa said.

"Sounds like a plan to me!" Andrea said.

"We can't let 'em pass!" Chuck said.

Omid looked down his aiming notch towards one of the farthest walkers, squeezing the trigger. The bullet whizzed through its eye socket, its corpse collapsing on the ground with the squish of oozing brain matter.

"Thirty feet! That's three points!" Omid cackled.

"Omid! For fuck's sake!" Christa said, glaring at him.

Christa faced the horde once more, noticing through the corner of her eye an alarming absence in their formation. She looked around, and instead seeing Tyreese by her side, she saw him straying far into the gymnasium, swinging his hammer nonstop like his arm was a machine. But the herd was deviating as well, now concentrating on Tyreese and ganging up on the man from all sides. Tyreese spun around in all directions to keep the walkers off him, and with each second that passed, they heard the dry thumb of a skull being caved in. But the number of walkers around him were swelling.

"What are you doing?! Stay close!" Andrea shouted.

Tyreese ignored them and pushed further into the horde. Andrea emptied her clip on the nearest walkers, hoping to catch their attention, but they were led astray by the food choice of the other zombies. He popped another clip into her handgun, but she couldn't help Tyreese without risking shooting him. She had a deadeye aim, but that wouldn't stop a bullet from traversing a biter and hitting Tyreese. The man was barely visible now, having been engulfed by the mob, the bellows becoming louder than his war cries.

"Tyreese!" Omid shouted. "What the fuck?!"

"He's crazy!" Christa said.

Billy exhaled heavily, as a divergent wave of walkers was coming right at them, and their ammunition dwindled. "We gotta get the fuck outta here!"

"We can't leave him behind!" Omid said, rushing forward.

Chuck yanked him back by his hoodie. "It's useless, son! He already got his by the walkers!"

"No! Omid's right, we have to get him!" Andrea said.

"There're too many!" Christa screamed. "We can't get past them! We can't save him, nobody can!"

"If we're going to go, it's now or never! C'mon!" Billy shouted.

"I'm sorry, Omid…" Christa said, as Omid lowered his head. "There's no way he's alive. It's too late. We have to go."

Omid shook his head, grunting as they darted out of the gymnasium. Chuck backed away as a walker got too close, driving his shovel into its neck. The shovel sliced through half of it, cutting off any nervous connections to its brain still alive and paralyzing its jaws while gaping wide. He propped up the shovel, making its head snap back and dangle from a few straws of tissue. The zombie crumbled on the ground, silent and motionless, but its cue ball eyes still rolling around in its orbits. Chuck hurried outside and Billy shut the doors behind him, reattaching the cuffs. Omid panted, leaning on his knees and rage burning inside him.

"Jesus!" Omid said. "We just left him behind!"

"Even if it was Rick, or anyone else, Omid… we couldn't have done anything." Christa said.

* * *

Travis and Ben strolled back home, not saying a word. Ben folded his arms with a frown, looking away from his friend. Travis thought that he was pouting for no reason. He agreed to come with him and in their current world, he had to expect to live some danger. He took the keyring from his belt and unlocked the cell block door, opening it with a creak. Ben immediately bolted to their cell and vanished inside. Travis sighed as he shut the door with his foot and marched towards Lilly, who was alone in the cell, and dropped the bag next to her. She darted her eyes towards the bag.

"What did you get?" Lilly asked, rummaging inside.

"Everything. Pills, bandages, medkits. I just brought anything that seemed remotely useful." Travis said.

"Good." Lilly said, taking some bandages and a few pill boxes.

The cell block door screeched. Andrea, Billy, Chuck, Omid and Christa appeared, their breaths audible and their gazes dangling low. But gravest of all, there was someone missing among them.

"What's wrong?" Travis asked.

"It's just…Tyreese, man." Omid said. "He went crazy. He ran into the middle of a horde, and…we couldn't do anything."

Christa rubbed his shoulder. "I'm sorry. But we had to get out of there."

"I know, hon'. I know." Omid sighed.

* * *

The grey hues of the sky dimmed out as seconds, minutes and hours passed by, despite a clock hanging on the wall showing static dials. Hershel's stump was now patched with a clean bandage instead of a dusty towel, yet he still slumbered like an angel. Billy, Maggie and Beth sat by his side, occasionally holding his hand and praying in hums. Lilly sat on the perch stairs, peeling the crusted blood off her arms, her mind clear yet trouble, a bitter sting in her chest still bugging her and a few chords strummed by Chuck in the distance adding to her melancholy. Carl, Sophia and Clementine played cards, needing something to take their minds off things. Omid and Christa cuddled in their bed. Omid barely blinked, the culpability prickling him. Christa felt sorry for her boyfriend, but she knew when it wasn't worth grieving over someone, and Tyreese was one of those people. Not because he was a bad person, but because they knew each other for only a few days.

Rick, Lee, Molly, Kenny and Daryl dragged their feet into the cell block, after a hard day's work. Clementine rushed towards Lee and she bulldozed the man with the hug, the two sharing a smile. Lori marched toward her husband, arms folded.

"You got rid of the prisoners yet?" Lori asked.

"They're in their cell block. Now let's see if they hold onto their end of the deal." Rick said.

"Tomas…he won't be an issue anymore." Lee said.

"What about Hershel?" Rick asked.

Lori jerked her head towards his cell. Lee, Molly, Daryl and Rick stood by the cell door, admiring the old man and noticing the medical equipment, and the new bandages on his stump.

"Where'd you get this stuff?" Kenny asked.

"Travis got 'em, he found the infirmary with Ben." Lilly said.

The three siblings glanced at each other, unaware of the good deed. Rick curved his lips and raised his brows. _Not bad._ Hershel's eyelids fluttered open, a cough choking him. Maggie, Billy and Beth dashed to his side, their hands overlapping in warmth over their father's hand and tears swaying in their eyes, their hearts tickling with joy. Hershel looked at his progenies with glowing blue eyes, pride lifting his lips. The watchers by the door simpered, aside from Daryl who nodded at the old man and then walked away. Hershel looked at Rick, calling his name in mute words. Rick kneeled next to him, smiling at him as Hershel grasped his hand.

"Guys, I have bad news." Omid said, appearing at the cell. "Tyreese…he's gone."

"What?!" Rick and Lee said in unison, their smiles disappearing.

"When we were clearing the gym, he just rushed into a horde. We couldn't stop it. Just thought you should know."

"Did you see the body?" Rick demanded.

"He was surrounded, he couldn't have gotten out."

"Did you see the body?!"

"No, but he…he was surrounded."

"Then we can't be sure. Dale, Lee, come with me, we have to go check."

* * *

"You did good, doc." Daryl said.

Daryl dropped next to Lilly on the perch stairs. She glanced at him but didn't meet his gaze, then once again fixated an invisible focal point on the wall ahead of her. His presence made her feel lacking space, but didn't tell him off. Perhaps because she felt some annoying gratitude towards him for all the times he saved her. But considering the little worth she had of her life now, she guessed it was because she was too tired to convince him to leave.

"Yeah, well…those kids shouldn't be in the same pain as me." Lilly said.

Daryl nodded, with passive agreement.

"When I was a kid, all of my friends had bikes. I didn't though. So I would just run after them everywhere. One day, we saw these ambulances speeding by. Thought some cool accident might've happened, speeded off in their bikes. Ran after them. And when I met up with 'em, the ambulance was in front of my house. They looked at me, I understood what happened. Mom, she liked to smoke in bed. Just fell asleep…caught the whole house on fire."

Lilly now heard his words instead of dismissing them and looked at him, her visage softening.

"Then when all this happened…I was with uncle Jess and my dad up in a cabin in the hills, hunting. This swarm gutted him in front of us. He was there, drowning in his own blood. I wanted to finish him off. But for some reason I couldn't. Pfft. I was stupid. So fucking stupid. I was pissed he was dying. But the fucker was never there for me or Merle. Hit us with belts, lamps, beer bottles for the fun of it."

Daryl got up and laid on his mattress. Lilly lowered her head, the pain within her heightening. A few tears slipped down her face, in silence until she started sniffling. But surprisingly, the pain slowly dissipated, leaving a gap inside her but easing the hurt. Daryl listened to her sobbing, as if it was a soothing sleeping lullaby. _Time to get some shuteye._

* * *

"We pop in, we make sure he's dead then we're out." Rick said, unlocking the cuffs on the gym doors. "I think he deserves that much after what he's been through."

Rick yanked back the doors. The three men darted through the door, their pistols raised high. They petrified on spot, their fingers frozen on the trigger and a huh escaping their lips.

Every single walker was dead, stretched out on the ground. Their skulls were bashed in, their blood and brain pulp splattered everywhere on the floor and the walls as if someone had splashed mindlessly a bucket of red paint reeking of rot. Tyreese was dropped against the wall, amid a pool of corpses, his clothes and his beanie covered in blood. His expression was lifeless, his hammer still held in hand.

"Rick. Lee. You're back." Tyreese said. "What kept you?"

"Jesus, man." Lee said, pulling Tyreese up.

"Let's get back." Dale said, as Tyreese steadied himself on his feet.

* * *

Rick, Lee and Dale stepped aside, letting Tyreese waddle into the cell block. Chuck's guitar went silent. Christa gasped, a twinge of guilty hitting her from leaving the man behind when they could have helped him. He was drenched in blood and muck, his legs faltering as he headed to his cell. The others watched with astonishment as if he had been resurrected from the dead, given a second chance in life.

"You're—you're alive?" Omid said.

"Yeah, I made it out." Tyreese smiled.

"Yikes." Chuck said, continuing his strumming.

Lee walked to his cell and peeked inside. Clementine was sleeping on the top bunk. He sighed, glad that the day was over. But he felt something was missing. There was something he still hadn't done, and he could drift off just yet. He walked to the abutting cell. Molly was swiping a squared rock against Hilda's blade, but she stopped when she spotted Lee at the door.

"Mind if I come in?" Lee asked

"'Course, mi cell es su cell."

Lee sat next to her on the bed. He pulled out his handgun, staring at the black C drawn on the slide. It was hard to believe it had been about two weeks ever since she went away. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and the memories of her became less vivid each day, as if her existence was just the recollection of a distant dream. If only she had made it, she could've seen the life they were germinating inside the prison.

"You still think a lot about her?" Molly asked.

"She crosses my mind often." Lee said. "But she slips away with every day that goes by."

"You want to talk about…today?"

Lee sighed. "What I did to Tomas…I can't…I can't even believe I did it. It's not something I do. It's not something I would do. Back at the start of all this…had Tomas done that, I would've locked him in a cell. Not killed him. He needed to go, I know that, but…it gets me thinking. When we escaped Harlan's camp, the way I beat up Clint…I killed him as well. And now, Tomas. What if I'm becoming a loose cannon? What—what if I start hesitating less? What if it starts getting easier?"

"Lee…I know with no doubt, that there is no malice in your heart. Everything you're doing, you're doing for this group, and most importantly, for Clementine. Clint and Tomas, they were monsters. They were cancerous to this world. They can't be cured, they can only be killed. And you're just doing what you need to do."

"But it seems like that, lately, I—I jump to the conclusion more quickly. Kill. Back at Hatlin's bar, I got the upper hand on Tony when they drew on us. I was ready to keep him alive. But if that moment happened now, I know I would've shot. There was an option, Molly! And I made the choice to end their lives."

"There is never a choice, Lee. And even when there is, it's not the easiest one. It's not really a choice you can make."

Lee nodded. "I hope so. I think I'll go check on Tyreese, see how he's doing."

Tyreese stripped off his soaked turtleneck, his dark skin humid from the blood and sweat. He slipped on a blue jumpsuit he had in his cell, and hoped that a good night's sleep would put things behind him. Sliding his head through the blue shirt, he saw Lee standing at the door.

"How the hell did you survive that, Tyreese?" Lee asked. "You fought through dozens of those things with a hammer?"

"I barely remember, that whole day seems like a dream to me." Tyreese said. "I remember it happening, but it's like I was seeing it from outside my body."

"You okay? Rick says you think you're fine, but you're going through some shit now, I know it."

"She's dead, Lee. My daughter is dead. But you know what? We all are. We're all dead. You, Rick, me, everyone. The only difference between us and Julie is that she doesn't have to put up with all the bullshit we do. She's resting, she's got no troubles on her mind, nothing creeping around every corner trying to kill her. My little girl is at peace. Seems to me that ain't something to be sad about."

"That's one way to look at it." Lee said. "Also…just know that…what you did, I don't hold it against you. I had to kill Tomas, you know?"

"Really?" Tyreese said, darting his eyes towards him.

"Yeah. He was proving to be more of a liability than an asset."

"Hmm. Well, fuck him, I guess."

* * *

No matter who deadened the world could get, the sun still rose each morning. But that dawn felt like the beginning of a new life, now that their issues were solved. The prisoners had been dealt with and Hershel was alive. Now all they needed was to clean up, and they could focus on establishing a thriving community in the prison. Rick, Daryl, Lee, Molly and Carol stood in the main yard, planning to clear out the rest of the bodies from the lower tunnels, along with a few remaining on the courtyard.

"We'll have to drag out each body and put them over there." Rick said, aiming his finger at a corner of the fence. "We'll burn 'em once we have all of them piled up."

"Where's Glenn and Maggie? Haven't seen them this morning." Carol said.

"Dunno." Daryl said.

Lee's eyes locked on the courtyard gate. "Hey, Rick."

Rick and the others turned around. Dexter, Andrew, Axel, Thomas and Vince were there, staring at them. Rick grinded his teeth, sneering at their presence. He marched towards them.

"That's close enough." Molly said as they stood in front of the five prisoners.

"We had an agreement." Rick said.

"Mister, we know that." Axel said. "We had a deal. But you gotta understand, we can't live in that place another minute. You follow me? All the bodies, people we knew."

"Blood, brains everywhere! There's ghosts!" Andrew said.

"Why don't you move the bodies out?" Daryl said. "You should be burning them."

"We tried. We did." Axel said.

"The fence is down on the far side of the prison." Dexter said. "Every time we drag a body out, those things just line up. We hump a body and run back inside."

"Look, we had nothing to do with Tomas!" Axel said, stepping forward. "Nothing! You tryin' to prove a point? You proved it, bro!"

"We can't live in that shithole for a second longer." Vince said, his arms folded.

"Our deal is not negotiable." Rick said. "You either live in your cell block, or you leave."

"I told you this was a waste of time." Vince said. "They ain't no different from the pricks that shot up the guys."

"You know how many friends' bodies we had to drag out this week?!" Dexter said. "Just threw 'em, like."

"These were good guys." Axel said. "Good guys who had our backs against the really bad dudes in the joint. Like Tomas."

"We've all made mistakes to get in here, chief." Dexter said. "I'm not gonna pretend to be a saint, but believe me, we've paid our due!"

Rick looked back at Lee and Daryl. The two men sternly shook their heads.

"The deal still stands." Rick said.

The prisoners grunted, lowering their heads and shuffling back inside one of the edifices. They watched them vanish into the prison, worrying if they would become an issue.

"They don't look too happy." Lee said.

"I get guys like this. Hell, grew up with them." Daryl said. "They're degenerates. Not psychos."

"Hmph. They might have less blood on their hands than we do." Lee said.

"I hope you're not insinuating we should let them in." Carol said.

"Hell, no." Lee said. "I wouldn't trust any of those guys around the group."

* * *

Glenn yawned awake, opening his eyes, seeing Maggie's naked back in the dim light. He flicked his eyes through the room, reminding himself of last night. They decided to explore for a place to crash, so they could enjoy an evening of raunchy sex without worrying about noise. And they crashed in a neat barbershop. Dusty shelves were adorned with razors, cream, brushes, scissors, clippers, shears, combs and neck dusters, along with mirrors reflecting a row of reclining chairs.

"I think we oughta get up." Glenn said.

"Hmm…don't feel like it…" Maggie yawned.

"We can't blow off work. Rick wanted to clear the tunnels. C'mon."

Glenn got up, his legs bristling at the stark cold, compared to the warmth of his girlfriend. He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was bigger than he thought he would, coal-like strands of hair dangling off his neck and sticking out in all directions. He examined the shelves like a kid in a toy shop, rubbing his chin, feeling the desire to toy around with the barber equipment.

"When's the last time you had a haircut?" Glenn said.

* * *

"What the hell?"

Lee chuckled as he and his friends stumbled upon Glenn and Maggie in the cadaver-laden tunnels. The couple grinned as they passed their hands through their heads. Glenn's head was rid of any hair, revealing a smooth skull, while Maggie had her shortened hair dangling at jaw height.

"That shit looks awful." Daryl said, bursting in laughter along with the others.

"Look who's talking. You're the one with the Chewbacca haircut." Glenn said.

"I ain't never seen a bald Korean chump."

"We found a barbershop just around the corner. You should all go see it once we're done with work here." Maggie said.

Morning unfolded at a slow pace, with the group joining in to drag the corpses to the main yard. Within an hour, their pyre of dead bodies outside completed and the others were torching it. Molly wiped her hands against one another, and Lee wanted to do the same, but forgot for a second that he was missing a forearm. The stump was bandaged, but he imagined that it was still an ugly sight, with a few drops of blood leaking and darkened, exposed flesh. The wound was still sore and raw as it was a week ago, and it would take months for his cells to slowly crawl over the wound, regenerating what they could of the injury.

Molly and Lee strolled through the tunnels, the barbershop just a few steps away. The tunnels were still dark, but the lack of corpses impeding a fluid walk made a difference.

"Don't you think we should bring Clem?" Molly asked.

"I don't think so." Lee chuckled. "Last time I tried to cut her hair, her reaction wasn't pretty."

"Just glad I'll be able to trim my hair. It's getting too long for my taste."

"And this beard is starting to-"

They entered the barbershop, the air sucked out of their lungs. Their joyful small talk was forgotten as what they saw dismayed them. The twins' bodies laid on the floor, their limbs stretched out in awkward positions. Their heads were severed from their shoulders and had rolled away, revealing a frozen gasp of horror before death. The blood was splashed on the walls and the ground, dyeing the room in red paint. The heads gained life, their eyes opening but revealing nothing but a layer of white sclera. Lee felt his stomach twisting within him, but he stepped into the room, knowing what he had to do. He oppressed his disgust as he took out his knife and stabbed the two heads in the temple, ceasing the gentle humming emanating from their jaws.

"Get Rick." Lee said, his breaths teeming with fury. "Only a few select fuckers could have done this."

* * *

Axel slipped his hand underneath his mattress, touching something slick. He pulled out the object, grinning. _Playboy, nice. _He grunted, knowing he couldn't get busy on the risk of getting caught, a humiliation he'd like to avoid. Still, didn't stop him from feasting his eyes. He admired the half-naked blonde on the cover with a smile. He had to share his discovery with someone. He got up and hurried down the stairs, finding Andrew alone in his cell, staring at the wall. He threw the magazine on his bed, which he glanced at but then shifted his gaze away.

"Check it out, Andrew. Found the only good thing in this cell block." Axel said.

"Sorry, I don't go in that direction anymore. Not ever since Dex and I hooked up, y'know." Andrew said.

"Ya think that'll keep up, Andrew? If that Rick fella ever lets us in to his group, or if we have to leave, ol' Dexter'll be switching sides if he finds a woman that's willing and able. We're not alone anymore."

"Please, Rick'll never let us in to his group."

"Maybe not. Maybe yes. Ya never know. Anywho, ya best be ready for that, or you'll get stuck holdin' your dick."

"Ain't like that, man. You don't know what you're talkin' about." Andrew shook his head.

Their cell block door creaked open. Axel raised an eyebrow, as he and Andrew peeked outside. Rick, Lee, Molly and Kenny marched in there, their guns in their hands but at waist-height. Thomas and Vince stood by their cell doors, wondering what was going on, while Dexter was sitting on his bed, looking at the intruders with an opened book in his hands.

"You sick fucks!" Kenny said, beaming his rifle at them.

"They're the ones who must've done it." Molly said, pointing her finger at Vince and Dexter.

"What the fuck?" Vince said.

"The fuck y'all talking about?" Dexter asked, erecting himself. "Best get out of my face, before I-"

"Don't you fucking move." Lee said, jolting his handgun towards him.

"What'd we do?! We didn't do nothing!" Andrew said.

"Vince and Dexter go in a cage." Rick said.

Rick shut the cell door. Dexter ambled to the door, a glare sparking in his eyes. Lee casted his pistol at Vince, and jerked it towards his cell. Vince grunted, staying pinned in place before shuffling into his cell. Lee slammed the door shut and Vince gripped the bars, pressing his face against them.

"Mind telling me what you think we did?" Dexter calmly asked.

"We just found two young boys decapitated!" Lee said. "You're gonna tell me you didn't do it?!"

"Yeah. I didn't do it. It wasn't me!"

"Hey, it wasn't me either!" Vince said. "I have no reason to have done it!"

"You're staying in here, until we figure out who did it." Rick said. "Everyone, go ahead. I'll catch up."

Lee, Molly and Kenny exchanged glances, always unknowing of what crossed the sheriff's mind. Trusting him, they walked away, leaving Rick alone with the inmates. Thomas, Axel and Andrew kept their distance from the sheriff.

"Did you do it?" Rick asked.

"Fuck no, I didn't do it." Dexter said. "Thing is, I ain't killing no one else! Had my fill of it, y'know? You looking for suspects, look in that pack of freaks you hang with. My crew was locked in that cafeteria for months and we didn't kill each other. I think one of your people's snapped. Luckily, I'm safe as I can be in here."

"If I find out you did it, I'll beat you to death myself." Rick said.

"You can't talk to me like that! Come on the other side a' them bars, country boy. I dare you."

Rick unlocked his cell door and slid it to the side. Dexter got up, the two men facing face to face, straight spines, their noses just inches away. Testosterone beamed through their eyes, before Dexter snorted and returned to his bed.

"You're all fucking crazy. Every last one of you. Lock that damn door on your way out."

Rick shut the door and marched to Vince's cell.

"What about you? What you got to say for yourself?"

"All I have to say is that my hands are clean." Vince said, stretched out in his bed. "I killed to help my brother. I don't plan to kill again unless someone gives me a reason to. You're blaming the wrong person. And if I were you, I'd be looking over my shoulder from now on, because the killer still walks among you all."

* * *

"We gotta look at this logically." Molly said, everyone in the cell block gathered in a circle in a heated debate. "Axel is a robber, Andrew is a junkie and Thomas evaded taxes. Vince and Dexter are the only murderers in there."

"This is useless. We should just cap a bullet in each one of them." Kenny said.

"That is not how we do things!" Lee said.

"For all we know, it might've been Andrew or something." Daryl said. "Someone else might've done it, knowing Dexter and Vince would take the fall."

"I don't know." Molly said. "I could imagine Andrew or Axel doing it. But Thomas is just a poor old fart. Dexter and Vince are the truly violent ones."

"Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way." Lee said. "Maybe we shouldn't rule them out by their crimes, and rather by who would be the most likely to do it."

"Well, if we look at it that way, they're all at even odds." Rick said. "They're all conditioned to violence, and they're all prone to be violent. They sure seem to have seen their share of riots and cafeteria stabbings."

"This ain't getting nowhere." Daryl said. "We got no evidence. Way the things are looking, we might never know who did it."

"Then we leave them locked up? Forever? That doesn't seem right." Lee said.

"Child killers?!" Kenny hissed. "That should issue a death sentence!"

"And it will!" Rick said.

"But we can't kill people who might be innocent!" Lee said.

"Listen, how about we call it a day?" Molly said. "Everyone's tired and this isn't getting us anywhere."

Lori and Carol sat in a bunk bed, listening to the debate outside. They hadn't seen the macabre scene, but they could only imagine the terror going through the kids' minds before they were afforded such a barbaric death. Sophia and Carl whispered to each other a few feet away from them.

"Christ…" Lori said. "I was going to take away Carl's gun today. I thought we were safe. Maybe if Billy and Ben had guns…"

"Sophia doesn't even know too well what's going on…" Carol said. "She's—she's confused by all this death…"

Andrea and Dale cuddled in their bed. The news had shocked them, but after a few minutes, they had quickly gotten over the ordeal. It was a bizarre nonchalance, but one they were familiar with for a long time. Two kids had died, but so had countless others, and it was best to just shrug it off.

"I'm the same way, ever since I lost my sister Amy." Andrea said. "I just have so much trouble taking it seriously. Sure, another one of us is gone. But…it's just death, y'know."

"I'm sad for what happened." Dale said. "But it doesn't affect me at all now. Now, we found out one of those prisoners killed the boys and it'll take a lot to hold me back. But other than that, it's like I have no emotion left. I've used it all up."

"Exactly. See, we're meant for each other…in this world, I mean. I don't know why you don't think so."

"We get along, yeah. But do you really want to spend the rest of your life with an old fart like me? How many good years could I have left?"

"Good years? None. Nobody has any good years left. But if you're talking about lifespan, I think we're all about equal. What's the average lifespan here? Six months? A year? How long could we possibly last at the rate we're going? I think I can safely say that I will spend the rest of my life with you. And I'm happy to do that. You've got at least another year in you, don't you?"

"I think I could manage that, you're a big help on that front. I don't want to die, but you're about the only thing that makes me want to live."

"Right back at you, old man."

"You just had to go that one step too far."

"You know, I was thinking I could go take a look at the laundry room before going to sleep." Andrea said, sitting up on her bed. "I was thinking I could start organizing new clothes for everyone."

* * *

Andrea inspected the piles of clothes in the laundry room. There were nothing but blue jumpsuits, of all sizes to match the scrawny inmates or the bulky bodybuilders. She just had to collect enough of them from the dryers and laundry carts to take back to her cell block, and let them try on the jumpsuits. She chuckled, imagining everyone walking around in jumpsuits as if they were former prisoners.

"Hello, Andrea."

Andrea froze, hearing Thomas' voice behind her. Her heart raced faster. But…but Rick had locked them in their cell block. Fear paralyzed her. She had to do something.

"Uh…what are you…? What are you doing here?" Andrea asked.

She pivoted around, seeing Thomas with a knife in his hand.

"Oh, nothing. Just came here to cut off your head."

Andrea swung her arm in the air, punching Thomas in the cheek, then pulled out her gun. "Get away from me! I'm gonna blow your brains out!"

"Please, don't struggle!" Thomas said, wiping the blood off his mouth.

Andrea brandished the pistol but Thomas lurched forward, grabbing it and shoving it in another direction.

"Fuck you, psycho!"

"Such language from such a pretty girl…"

Thomas bashed the pistol against her head, knocking her down. He threw her pistol aside.

"We won't be needing this. Now, let's get started."

* * *

Andrew knocked on the cell door. Dexter got up from his bed and approached the bars with a smile, the two lovers holding hands through them.

"Dex! Hey, man, you okay in there?" Andrew asked.

"I'm in here, I'm not okay, get it?" Dexter said. "Feel like a fucking prisoner again."

"You think of anything I can do, man, anything at all to get you outta there, and I'll do it. I don't care what it is. Just say the word, man. Just say the word."

"If you serious, little man, listen up. These fucks ain't our friends. They ain't fucking normal. They crazies. They thought we was living the high life in that cafeteria. What they been through, out in the world, it's tore 'em up. They broken. Now they killing each other and blaming us. Only one way out of this. You gotta figure out a way into the A-Block. Where the guard center is. That's where they got the riot gear and the shotguns and shit. Enough ammo to kill an army in there. They stocked up for riots. You get in here, we home free. You just gotta do it on the down-low. I never trusted these fucks. They don't know about the guns. Understand?"

"Yeah, but we's locked in here! They locked the block!" Andrew said.

Dexter smiled, pulling out a key from his pocket. "When country boy started having attitude problems, I took a key from the keyring. Thomas has a second one as well. Take the key and sneak out."

"Gotcha. I get those and we can bust you outta here in a blaze of glory! Kicking all kinds of ass!"

"That's what's gonna happen." Dexter said. "Otherwise I rot in here until they decide to off me. And it's you next. Also, let's keep it between you and me. Axel and Vince might not be so understanding of what we have to do. Once you get the guns, you come back to free me, we load up, then we'll split up. You'll go into the generator room and turn the alarms on, open the gates, bring all kinds of the dead towards 'em. Then, I'll hold 'em at gunpoint and wait for you to kick those assholes off our turf. Think you can handle all that?"

Andrew smiled. "Brother, I can find a way."

* * *

Rick sat in a lawn chair, his face buried into his hands. Carol was watching the kids on the grass yard, along with most of the group who tried to enjoy the space they had, but he was lost in his thoughts. How could he have let those boys die? The guilt corroded him, making his fingers twitch. He felt like it would carve a hole within him, leaving a mark within him. And when they would plant two crosses next to two freshly-dug mounds, he would forever be reminded of it.

"Rick-?" Lori said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"It's all my fault, Lori." Rick muttered, flashing her gleaming eyes and a trembling lip. "Those boys are dead because of me. I thought this place was safe. We have lost so much…I killed those boys…"

Lori gasped, but then stepped in front of her husband and shook him with a strong grip.

"Rick, that's bullshit! You had no way of knowing what would happen."

"I—I'm sorry, Lori…I'm—I'm not all here. I haven't been able to sleep since Chris and Julie, I can barely think straight…"

Lee walked up to his friend, seeing him in his frail state of mind.

"How's Clementine?" Lori asked.

"She's…hell, I don't know how she is. She's phased by it, just don't know how much. God…something like that…I can't imagine how she's processing it."

"She'll find her way, Lee. With some time and space, she'll-"

A thud resounded. Lee, Rick and Lori sprang around. Andrea burst out of the north building, a bleeding scar running along her cheek while Thomas ran after her, his knife held high.

"Help! Help! Somebody help!"

"Come back here, you slut! It's time to get your medicine, you fucking whore!"

Andrea tripped over, scraping her skin on the asphalt. Lee ran towards her, squatting next to her and examining her injury, while Rick tackled Thomas to the ground, his knife falling away.

"It was you who killed them, wasn't it?! You sick fuck!"

Rick pounded his face with his fists, each blow discharging a gargantuan furor. Lee set his hand on Andrea's shoulder, while looking at his friend. Thomas was no match and he was just laying limp as his face was bashed in by Rick. Lee felt like justice was being made, yet a drop of guilt for not stopping Rick. But he was going to allow him. The whole group was huddling around the sheriff, viewing the spectacle and unknowing of what to do. Rick's punches became sloppier as the fighting drained his energy and his bones cracked and fractured.

"You killed them! They were just little boys! They didn't do anything to you! Nothing!"

"Rick!" Lori said, trying to pull Rick off. "Stop it! Stop!"

"Get off me!"

Lee wrenched Lori back. "Don't stop him!"

"He deserves every bit of this, Lori." Rick said, resuming the punches. "Don't you?! You psycho son of a bitch! Don't you deserve this?!"

Tyreese grabbed Rick by the armpits, yanking him off albeit the sheriff kept waving his fists in the air. "Rick! Jesus, man, what're you doing?!"

"He killed them, Tyreese! He killed a couple of helpless boys! He killed them and they didn't do anything wrong!"

Tyreese let go of him. Rick stood still, staring at Thomas. The blood hid his face in crimson paint and his nose was bent, breaths barely entering his lungs. His glasses were shattered and his balding hair was sticking out, his skull full of dents. As the adrenaline eased, the pain crawled up Rick's arm and it seemed like he couldn't get enough air to breathe.

"He killed them…"

Tyreese twisted his lips. "Jesus, Rick, what did you do?"

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: For those who might be shocked or pissed at the twins' death, since they didn't do the whole Ben kills Billy thing, just know that it's all a part of my magnificent, divine and evil plan! **


	62. Breakout

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 62 – BREAKOUT**

** Guest: "You need to make lee the leader insted of rick rick is such a loser lee is way more better and also make it lee x molly. And some Clementine and lee father daughter moment (and change Clementine Last name Everett"**

** Answer: I go where the story takes me. Also, who the hell would anyone care about last names in the apocalypse?**

** Watchmen1985: "[…] i was kinda upset that you didn't add big tiny danny and justin in the prison group they seem like nice guys and i figure ricks group could of used more big guys to act as extra muscle danny would probably be killed by rick because he was accused of raping of 15 year old girl but him and big tiny seemed really kind and gentle"**

** Answer: If you think about it, Rick's already packing some serious muscle – Lee, Tyreese, Kenny, Daryl…also, I do suppose I could have introduced Danny as a minor antagonist, but unfortunately it didn't cross my mind. And like I've mentioned before, the cast would be too bloated if I introduced literally everyone, so I have to cut out any character that serves too little purpose, like Justin and Big Tiny.**

* * *

Rick moved his fingers. Blades of pain made him croak and kept his hand inert. He stared at his fingers that were twisted like badly riveted screws to his palm. The rage dissolved into the air with each heavy breath and with each second cherishing the sight of the man laying before him. Thomas' chest swelled just a bit and no noise came from his lips. The surfeit of gazes directed towards Rick from behind were like a bothersome prickle on his nape, but they knew what he did was just. Among the crowd, there were dilated pupils but no hanging jaws. Seeing someone get beaten to a pulp, a few steps away from death, should be wrong, but considering what he did, they accepted it regardless of insignificant ethics. Carol ushered Carl and Sophia into the prison while Lee wondered if it was better to just leave Thomas to be reaped by death.

"Is he dead?" Molly asked with a sneer.

"Not yet." Rick said with a cold breath.

"What do you mean by that?! What are you planning to do, Rick?!" Lori said.

"What would you have me do?!" Rick sprang his glare towards his wife. "I seem to recall hearing you pretty goddamned disturbed after what happened! That all it takes?! A day so you can forget the crime?! You not too concerned with this now?! We gotta make sure…that he never kills again!"

"Don't you fucking see it?! We could break the cycle! No killing means no killing! Throwing him out there on his own is an even worst punishment! Or locking him in here!"

"N-No way!" Andrea interjected, clutching her bleeding cheek with a shaking hand. "No fucking way! I'm not going to sleep here at night knowing he could get out and attack me again! And we're not throwing him to the zombies unless I can watch them tear his ass apart! Look what that fuck did to me! He deserves to die for what he did to those boys!"

"We haven't made any kind of rules for this sort of thing." Tyreese said. "If we're going to start a new life here, try to re-establish society, we need to have rules for this. We need to all decide what we do. What do we do?"

"Rules? Please." Rick snorted.

"It's simple." Lee said. "We put a bullet through his skull and be done with it."

"Fuck, no! We throw him to walkers!" Kenny said.

Lee sighed. He wouldn't take pleasure in inflicting pain on another person despite how vile that murderer could be, but while nobody dared to say it, it was what everyone wished. He knew he couldn't sway them to the quicker solution, which would be a painless execution.

"He's right." Rick said. "And that's what we are going to do. We can't tolerate this kind of thing anymore. A prison cell won't assure us our safety. And if we send him out there, other people will fall victim to him. So we make sure he dies."

"So that's it?!" Lori said. "You're just making the decision for all of us then?!"

"Everyone seems to be in agreement." Molly said, eyeing the crowd around her, who didn't speak up in objection.

"I'm just making sure we do what's right, Lori." Rick growled, slapping his forehead with his lower palm while sighing. "I'm making the choice that's best for all of us."

"Listen to yourself! You're my husband, you prick! Not my father!"

"Lori…shut the fuck up. And I think you forgot that when you fucked another man."

Lori gasped, paralyzed by his words. Her eyes glittered and her cheeks blushed as shocked gazes from the others shifted between the couple. Her only will was to hide in a hole. She couldn't believe her husband would say that to her. She lowered her head, hiding her face between her raven hair as she stormed inside the west building, her blood boiling like a fever. Not all of them knew what Rick meant by what he said, but they weren't going to ask.

"Let's get this waste of breath outside the fence." Kenny said.

* * *

Lori discharged a breath once she stepped inside the cell block. The cold walls isolating her from her idiotic husband and the others' stares were an instant relief, even though those words still vibrated inside her mind. She thought they were past that. He knew how guilty she felt over what she did. And he had no fucking right in rubbing it in her face. Especially in front of everyone. She needed to blur those thoughts, before they drove her crazy. She headed for her cell. Carol and Lilly were sitting on the bed, with the kids. Clementine was curled into a ball on the top bed, biting her lip, while Carl and Sophia were sitting on the ground, their hands locked and fear in their eyes.

"Thanks for bringing the kids here." Lori said in a calm tone, as if the altercation outside had been forgotten.

"You're welcome." Carol said.

Lori turned to her son.

"Carl? Are you okay, son?"

"I—Is dad crazy?!" Carl asked.

"No, Carl! No." Lori said, kneeling next to her son and holding him in her arms. "Come here."

"Why did he attack that man?!"

"Your dad had a reason to attack that man. He killed Ben and Billy…tried to kill Andrea. He was a bad man."

"Bad like Shane?" Carl asked, rubbing his eyes.

Lori withdrew her head. Now even he was bringing up Shane? She hesitated on what to respond.

"Yeah…a lot like Shane."

"Only I killed Shane before he killed anybody…"

"That's right…but you did the right thing."

"So did I."

Rick stood at the door, nonchalant about his splintered hand. Lori didn't look at him.

"A moment?"

Carol and Lilly got up and took Sophia and Clementine out of the cell. Lori held Carl tightly, who dodged his father's gaze.

"I'm not making these decisions lightly, Lori." Rick said, dropping on the bed. "I'm thinking everything through. I know things got a little heated outside earlier and I may not have seemed completely rational…but I was. These people, they look up to me to keep them safe. I owe it to them to do everything in my power to do so. Where I see justice, you see another murder. More than anyone else out here…I need you on my side, hon'. I just can't live with it otherwise. I need you to see my side of things."

Lori drew a breath. Her husband's presence frustrated her but she was benumbed to any other emotions. She didn't hate Rick with a burning fervor like she did a minute ago. She couldn't control her feelings anymore, perhaps because her hormones were too foggy and mixed to let her define her emotions.

"I don't know what I see anymore, Rick. I don't know if it's because I'm exhausted or if this pregnancy is just altogether different than it was with Carl. But I can barely think straight. I see myself overreacting, jumping to conclusions. I know I'm doing it and I can't seem to stop myself. I've never had this much stress in my life. I guess it's taking its toll. I'm sorry, Rick, I really am. He's a killer, no doubt about it. I would've shot Dexter and Vince myself the day I thought they had done it if I knew they had done it. We can't leave him here, and letting him go is worse. You're right. We have to kill him."

* * *

Andrea flinched with every gentle touch of Dale's rugged hands. The two were sitting on their bed. An opened medkit laid close to him. Her freckled cheek was sliced and her earlobe had been torn out. Dale smiled for a split second, relieved that she escaped such a close encounter, and because she was still stunning despite the wound. He wiped the cut and the blood gushes with wet cotton, then applied band-aids throughout the bloodied gap to seal it.

"Hershel'd probably do a better job patching you up but I don't think he's ready to help anyone just yet."

"I'm not in too good of a mood either. That fucker did just try to kill me! Jesus, this fucking hurts!"

"Look forward, let me make sure I can stop this bleeding. I think most of it's stopped already. This is just cleaning up."

"Did he cut my ear? Tell me he didn't cut my ear…it felt like he did, but I never got to check."

"Your lobe is gone, but you'll still be able to hear."

"I couldn't care less about hearing. I don't want to look like a freak."

"You've got nothing to worry about. You'll be as pretty as ever once we get you cleaned up."

"Got anything left in that first aid kit that I could use?" Rick asked, showing up at the door.

"I've got over half a bottle of peroxide here with your name on it. Have a seat and let's look at that hand."

"Let me warn you…it's not pretty."

Rick stretched out his hand. The skin was mushy from the blood and the flesh was exposed in his knuckles. His middle finger had a bone sticking out. Dale poured the peroxide onto his hand. Rick winced, but held back the scream despite it feeling like acid was corroding his skin. Dale didn't know how too well how to diagnose the injury, but he guessed it was going to be rough recovery.

"Jesus, son! I think every one of your bones is broken. Your knuckles are busted to all hell. This isn't going to heal right at all, Rick. Not even close. I don't think you'll ever be able to use it."

"I'll worry about that later. You just clean it. I don't want it to get infected on top of everything else. I don't regret a thing."

* * *

The cell door unlocked with a click. Dexter sprang his head to his side, recognizing that sound from hearing it so many times. With a bandaged hand, Rick twisted the key on his cell and Vince's. So the sheriff had finally realized it wasn't them, and with him free, his plan was going to work out much better. Dexter got up from his cot and walked out the confined space, stretching out his legs.

"You're off the hook. It wasn't you." Rick said.

"That it? That all you gonna say?" Dexter said.

"That's it." Rick said, slightly ashamed of accusing the wrong culprit. "You going to start some trouble?"

"Who was it? Did it, I mean." Vince asked.

"One of yours. Thomas. The 'tax evader'."

"Hmm. I didn't know what he was in for." Dexter said. "But I knew it wasn't tax evasion. Never did trust him. Don't trust a lot of people right now."

* * *

Lori and Maggie set a pair of crutches against Hershel's bunk bed. The old man grabbed the bedframe and hoisted himself with a grunt. He took the crutches and seized the handles, putting the flattened surface under his armpits. He hopped up, almost losing his balance as he erected himself. Lori stabilized him with her hand on his shoulder. Despite the initial hardship, he quickly got used to the crutches, and at least he wouldn't trip over with his one-legged trousers.

"Just take your time." Lori said.

"Daddy, don't push yourself." Maggie said.

"What else am I gonna do?" Hershel chuckled, standing on his sole foot and leaning on both crutches. "I can't stand to look up at the bottom of that bunk anymore. You know, I can go pretty steady."

"That's a good start. Want to rest?" Lori asked.

"Rest?" Hershel asked. "Let's go for a little stroll."

* * *

Lee and Kenny hurled Thomas out the gate, while the group stared from behind – Glenn, Billy, Omid, Christa, Ben, Chuck, Molly, Tyreese and Daryl. Lee shut the gate as Rick joined the performance along with Andrea and Dale. The few walkers clawing at the fence shifted their limp towards their defenseless, half-dead prey and gathered on their knees around Thomas. Their broken fingernails dug into his stomach. Soft, agonized whimpers were sung by the man, too beaten up to scream. The relief of justice having been made reverberated in them, even if they took no glee with what they saw.

Lee didn't deny that killing him was necessary, but he would have preferred a quick bullet, a way to just tick a problem off the list. Rick glanced at the crowd. During the whole discussion, almost none of them had explicitly said they wanted to see Thomas devoured by the walkers, but they were watching it. Maybe they wanted to convince themselves they weren't savages, and as long as they didn't verbally express their violent desires, they could fool themselves.

_We're already savages._

Ben Paul arched over in a sudden movement and a jet of yellow goo spurted from his mouth. The group glanced at him, as the teenager wiped the vomit from his lips with the back of his hand.

"Sorry."

Travis sat on the grass, near the courtyard. In the distance, the mob was viewing the spectacle, and from that distance, Thomas being ripped apart like a ragdoll disputed among siblings was just a blur. He spared himself the gore and was just glad to know things were back to normal, and there were no killers walking among them. He heard footfalls crunching leaves next to him, but didn't look to see who it was. Until he saw from the corner of his eye that it was Beth. His attention peaked and he turned towards her, as she sat next to him.

"Lilly told us that you fetched that medicine for daddy." She smiled. "I appreciate it."

Travis grinned like an imbecile hyena, his brain freezing to find an answer.

"You're welcome."

"So, they're really tossing him out for the sick people?"

"Yeah." Travis said, his voice no longer quavering. "I didn't want to watch it."

"Me neither. But I guess he deserved it. For what he did."

"Yeah…it was awful. Reminds of when I was with Harlan and his band of psychos."

"Harlan? That balding guy?"

"Yes. Don't know why I brought it up. Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm glad you're with us now, though."

Travis glanced at her angelic face as she plucked straws of grass from the ground, and beyond her Hershel was standing near the building while propped by a pair of crutches with Maggie, Carl and Lori accompanying him. The group near the gate turned to Hershel, smiles sprouting on their lips. The wise man of the group was rejuvenated, and knowing they would yet hear his sensible advice for weeks to come was enough to give them hope.

Travis' smile vanished. Behind Hershel, a humanoid silhouette approached him. His face was darkened and the skin seemed like a crust wrapped around his skull. And a moan escaped its lips. Travis hopped to his feet, gasping. Walkers were flooding the courtyard.

"Hershel!" Travis shouted.

Lori, Maggie and Hershel sprang around. Lori, Carl and Maggie whipped out their pistols and fired at the walkers, wondering how they had ended up there.

"Walkers!" Maggie shouted. "Get dad outta here!"

Beth and Travis ran up to Hershel. Gunfire pealed near them like fireworks. The old man seesawed towards the nearest shelter, which were the caged stairs leading to the east building of the prison, where were the warden's offices and the administration. Beth yanked back the grated door, just as a walker lurched towards Hershel.

"Dad!"

Travis took out his handgun, but before he could shoot, Hershel steadied himself on one foot and swooped his crutch towards the zombie. The wooden tip struck the walker's chin, snapping its head back and knocking it over. Travis raised his eyebrows, then the three of them rushed inside the caged stairs and shut the grated door.

* * *

The first sign something was wrong was when Travis bounced to his feet. Despite him being distant, Lee saw the fret written all over his face. Then, Lori, Carl, Maggie and Hershel spun around, and their pistols started firing. And one word was pronounced, the one that immediately announced danger. _Walkers._ The group stood banked, but within a few seconds, the denial that walkers could have invaded the prison dispelled. Rick sprinted up the main field, the preoccupation over his family moving his legs, while everyone else unsheathed their weapons and chased after the sheriff.

"No!" Lee shouted.

"Lori! Carl! Get outta there!" Rick yelled.

Rick and Lee were the first to reach the courtyard, where the walkers had spread out, uniformly dressed with jumpsuits or police garments, some of the officers' belts still holding onto handguns and nightsticks. Lee kept track of his bullets in his mind, knowing that a reload would be difficult. The group fired at the horde, splatters of blood being spat out from holes in the back of their skulls. Molly rushed into the middle of the battle, inserting her pickaxe in the zombies' brainstems with swift movements. With their combined firepower, it only took about half a minute to finish off the walkers.

Rick jerked his neck. Lori, Carl and Maggie were gone. He turned to Hershel, Beth and Travis, who hid behind the caged stairs.

"What the hell happened?!" Rick said.

"The gate was open, I think!" Travis said. "But I was pretty sure we closed that when we got here!"

"Where's Lori, Carl, everyone else?!"

"They went into the cell block!" Beth said.

"What about Clementine?!" Lee asked.

"I left her with Carol and Lilly. She oughta be with them." Rick told him. "Alright, Beth, Travis, stay put with Hershel!"

Molly dashed towards the courtyard gate, which was wide open, despite them having chained it when they cleared out the complex. Myriads of walkers were shuffling towards the gate, threatening to flood the courtyard once again. She kicked a walker that crossed over back to the other side, before sliding the gate shut. She glanced at the floor. The carabiner chains had been taken off by someone.

"Those chains didn't come out on their own." Molly said as she ran back to the others. "Someone took them off."

Rick jerked his neck, sure of who had done it.

"You think they did it?" Christa asked.

"You mean the prisoners?" Tyreese said.

"Who else?" Rick said.

Rick was about to bark orders, but alarms echoed throughout the prison through speakers, and red lights began spinning on the walls. That noise brought panic to the survivors. The sound would resound for miles, attracting every zombie in the outskirts of the prison. They could have an infinite ocean of undead people cluttering beyond the fence, along with the attention of any other people around the area.

"What's that?!" Billy said.

"Oh, ya gotta be kiddin' me!" Daryl said.

"Man, we are so screwed!" Ben said.

"Shoot the goddamned speakers!" Andrea said.

Rick, Lee, Glenn and Andrea aimed their handguns at any speaker they saw hanging from the walls and shot them down. But in the distance, probably on the other side of the prison that they hadn't yet explored, they still heard alarms.

"Alright, everybody listen up!" Rick screamed. "Lee, Glenn, Daryl, Molly, Tyreese, on me! The rest, shoot any walkers you see, close every gate and shoot any remaining speakers, see if you can find the others!"

Billy, Omid, Christa, Ben and Chuck nodded, sprinting away with their weapons. Rick nudged his head towards the west building, where the cell blocks and the tunnels were.

* * *

Rick fired one last round, finishing off the last walker in their cell block. Four walkers had found their way inside, but they were no longer a threat. Lee and Rick oscillated between a fast march and a jog as they peeked inside each cell. There was nobody there. Lori, Carl and Maggie were missing, and Lilly, Carol, Sophia and Clementine were as well. Lee grinded his teeth, trying to take solace in the fact that she had a gun and was with two adults, but with the walkers roaming the prison again, he wouldn't be in peace until he found her.

"We just took down five of 'em in there!" Daryl said.

"There were four in here, but no sign of Lori or anyone else!" Rick said.

"They must have been pushed back into the prison." Glenn said.

"Somebody is playing games!" Lee blared.

"We'll split up and look for the others!" Rick said. "Whoever gets to the generators first, shut 'em down! Lee and Daryl, on me!"

* * *

Rick unfastened the lock on the inmates' cell block. They had to find out a clue on where the prisoners went, and they could tell them how to shut off the alarms. They stormed inside, their grip tight on their pistols. Dexter and Andrew were nowhere to be seen, but they didn't expect to see Axel and Vince locked inside a cell, banging on the bars with their fists.

"Over here!" Vince shouted.

"Hey, yo, unlock us, bro!" Axel said.

"What the fuck happened?!" Lee asked.

"Dexter and Andrew, they got guns! They got 'em from the armory and wanted to take over the prison, you follow me?!"

"But those assholes locked us in here!"

Rick unlocked their door, then gripped Vince by the collar.

"How the hell can those alarms be on?!"

"Get your paws off me!" Vince said, brushing his hand off. "It must be the backup generators. There's three that're connected to a diesel tank. Okay? Each one controls a different part of the prison, but the hacks shut 'em all off when the prison was overrun!"

"You're coming with us!"

* * *

Rick, Daryl, Lee, Vince and Axel burst through the doors of the generator room, a dozen of walkers flailing their arms right at their heel. Axel, Daryl and Lee shoved the door shut, but not before several zombies slid their fingers through the chasm, impeding the door from locking. Lee pounded the door against the blackened fingers, but they didn't budge. Daryl nodded at Rick, signaling that they would keep the door shut and cover them. Rick and Vince sauntered amongst the rectangular machines comporting a slew of buttons and dials, which were like an illogical jigsaw he had to solve.

"How do you shut these down?!" Rick asked.

"Here, and there, and there!" Vince said, turning off a knob and aiming at two other dials.

Rick shut one of the dials off. He reached for the second one, but the blade of axe swung towards him in his peripheral vision. He sprang around, staring into Andrew's eyes. Rick raised his revolver, but the blade struck the pistol and projected it across the room. Vince rushed towards him. Andrew hit him in the cheek with his fist, then hurtled towards Rick. He pinned the wooden handle against the sheriff's neck, pushing him against the wall.

"Rick!" Lee shouted, wanting to help him but knowing that he had to stay at the door.

A jerrican flew in the air and collided with Andrew's face. He staggered back and dropped the axe. Vince picked up the Colt Python and cocked the hammer, aiming it down at Andrew and Rick. Rick raised his hand slowly, as if it would stop the bullet, convinced that a revolver's drumming would be the last sound he heard. The reluctance was seen in Vince's eyes, shifting between the two men. And he had no reason to keep Rick alive. Andrew beamed his finger at the sheriff.

"Shoot him! We can take back this prison! Me, Dex, you and Axel!"

Vince hesitated, taking deep breaths. He glanced towards his side without moving his head. Daryl had his spine leaned against the door, but aimed his crossbow at Vince, his eye magnified through the red scope.

"What're you waiting for?! It's obvious! Shoot him!"

Vince careened the pistol to the left, and fired. Rick barred his face with his arm, turning his head to the side and pressing his eyelids against one another until he saw seeing stars. He was still breathing. He cracked open one eye. He was still standing. He opened his second eye and straightened his back. Andrew was lying on the ground, the shock imprinted in his eyes and staring into the void while a crater on his forehead bled profusely. Vince turned the revolver around, the handle turned towards him. Rick took the revolver and shut off the last dial, picking up the axe. The alarms ceased, the silence being like music to their ears.

"Let's go." He said.

Vince walked over to Andrew, kicking his dead body.

"That's for locking me in a cell, bitch!"

"Rick, the others might've cleared the walkers already." Lee said. "You should go back up, see if Lori might've resurfaced. Daryl and I will keep looking in the tunnels. Increases our chances of finding them more quickly."

* * *

Maggie reclined against the cold door. Outside, the growls filled the tunnels as if the zombies chanted the anthem of their species. She expected to hear their noises diminish as they advanced down the tunnels, but they persisted. They were lingering near the entrance. Why weren't they moving? It seemed like it, but they weren't battering on the door. Anyways, it seemed like they were stuck there for a while. Maggie glanced around the room they hid in. Crates of bolts, screws and hammers laid about everywhere, along with workbenches full of small metal pieces that she couldn't identify. She guessed it was a workshop. Carl walked around the room, inspecting their surroundings. Lori leaned against a pipe, taking deep breaths, glad they were safe now. Her body was an uneven scales of hormones and temperatures, relief sending cold chills down her spine, and the fatigue from the running they did heating her skin.

But there was also a bizarre warmth, coming from between her thighs. She slid her hand between her hands, feeling her palm humid. Her trousers were wet and water dripped onto the ground.

"M—Maggie-"

The young woman looked at her, her respiration ceasing when she saw the water spilling onto the concrete.

"W—what is that?!" Carl asked.

"It means the baby is coming." Maggie said. "Lori, just stay calm, we need to lie you down."

"The baby's coming now."

"We have to get back to our cell block, then!" Carl said.

"No, we can't risk getting caught out there." Maggie said. "We'll have to give birth to the baby here."

"W—What's going on? Can she breathe?"

"She's fine. Let's get your pants off."

Maggie unbuckled her jeans and yanked them down. Carl's eyes turned elsewhere. Maggie supported Lori with a hand on her back, as she squatted and stretched on the ground. Lori panted, wiping her shiny forehead. Her heart pounded in her rib cage, and see could feel its pulses in her neck and temples. Her only will was to cry. _Oh__God, no. _The timing could not be worst. Trapped in a chamber of dust and humidity, with the menace of the walkers outside. She grunted, contractions paining her abdomen. Carl stared at his mother and the improvising nurse, clueless.

"You're gonna help deliver your baby brother or sister, you up for it?" Maggie said.

Carl hesitantly nodded.

"I'll do an exam. Let me see if you're fully dilated."

"You know how?" Carl asked.

"Daddy taught me, but trust me, it's my first time." Maggie said, her fingers spreading out her vulva, but she didn't know what to make out of what she saw. "I can't tell."

"I gotta push…"

"Okay…"

"I gotta push…"

Lori contracted her hip muscles. The pain exploded like a bomb and the shock wave pulsated throughout her body. The pain was so intense that she couldn't release a scream, just a strangled whimper. Her skin was sticky from the transpiration and it was like her shirt was glued to her torso. She stopped for a second, taking a breath. She repeated the drill - holding her breath, pushing, take a breath, push, repeat.

"I—I'm okay—I'm o—okay…"

"Lori, don't push, something's wrong!"

Maggie extracted her hand from between her thighs, showing a bloodied palm. Carl froze to solid ice. Maggie's hands trembled, but she controlled them. She had to focus on the task, if she wanted to help her. Lori's eyes flicked around in her orbits sluggishly, her eyelids fluttering closed at times. Her skin was pale and her energy was drained by the manual work, as if the baby was a black hole sucking its mother's strengths.

"Mom…? Mom, look at me, look at me, keep your eyes open." Carl said, kneeling next to her mother.

"We have to get you back to dad." Maggie said.

"I—I'm not gonna make it…" Lori said in a frail voice.

"Lori, with all this blood, I don't even know if you're fully dilated. No amount of pushing is going to help."

"I know what it means, and I'm not losing my baby. You've got to cut me open."

Carl and Maggie held their breath. Maggie shook her head incessantly, as if the motion of negation would create a solution and prevent her from doing such a horrible deed. Carl couldn't say a word. The way the two women were acting, it seemed like it was the only way. And that he was living the last moments with his mother.

"No, I can't." Maggie said with a weakened tone.

"You don't have a choi-"

"I'll go get help!" Carl said, dashing to the door.

"No!" Lori shouted, halting Carl dead on his tracks.

"Carol's the one that practiced that, dad only taught me a few steps, Lori, I-"

"Please…"

"I have no anesthetic, no equipment…!"

"Carl has a knife…"

Maggie sniffled, forced to say the words that were unfortunately true. "You won't survive."

"My baby has to survive…please…my baby…for all of us…please, Maggie! Please, Maggie! Please! You see my old C-section scar?" Lori said, pulling up her shirt and revealing a line stretching throughout her stomach.

Maggie imagined her blade slicing through it, freezing her spine. What if she cut too deep? There were so many chances that she could make a mistake, and the odds overwhelmed her.

"I—I can't…"

"You can…you have to…"

Lori looked at Carl, whose chest was inflating at a rapid pace and his chin throbbing, his eyes reflecting a bright light. Lori flashed him a sickly smile.

"Carl…I don't want you to be scared, okay? This is what I want…this is right… Now you—you take care of your daddy for me, all right? A—and your little brother or sister, you take care-"

"You don't have to do this." Carl said, breaking into tears.

"You're gonna be fine." Lori said, struggling to keep her tears at bay. "You are gonna beat this world! I know you will! You are smart, and you are strong, and so brave! And I love you."

"I love you too…"

"You gotta do what's right, baby. Promise me you'll always do what's right. It's…so easy to do the wrong thing in this world…" Lori said, her voice shattering like glass. "So don't—if it feels wrong, don't do it, alright? D—don't let the world spoil you! You're so good…you're my sweet boy…you're the best thing I ever did…and I love you…!"

Carl hugged his mother, the two almost suffocating each other with their dying embrace. But Lori knew they couldn't waste time. She detached from her son quickly.

"Okay…okay, now…Maggie, when this is over, you're gonna have to-you have to do it. It can't be Rick."

"Alright…alright…it's alright…it's alright…"

Lori stared towards the ceiling, her gaze already somewhat out of focus. _It's okay. It's okay. _It would all be over in a few seconds. She wished she could tell herself she had no regrets. But she did. More than she could count. She regretted what she did with Shane. She regretted being such a shitty wife to Rick. But worst of all, she regretted that her last conversation with her husband was a dispute, and it hurt her to think that Rick would forever be corroded by guilt that in one of their last interactions he had reminded her of her remorses of the past.

"Goodnight, love…" Lori said.

"I'm sorry…" Maggie said.

Maggie slid the knife across her stomach. A tide of tears blinded her and weakened her arm. Lori let out a deafening howl, the veins in her neck distending. Maggie mentally groaned at herself. She wiped the tears, stiffening her arm. She had to get the job done. She detached from her emotions and numbed them. She looked at her stomach. There was a fissure spewing blood and her swollen belly deflated a bit like a pierced balloon. Lori's screams devolved into faint whimpers, until she turned silent. Her head drooped to the side, her whitened fists withering into stretched out fingers. Carl lurched towards Maggie, an invisible blade digging into his heart as if Maggie was stabbing him and not his mother.

"No! No! You're killing her!" Carl shouted, but withdrew his hands, aware that he couldn't stop what was happening.

"Carl, please...Carl, give me a hand…Carl, please…you should keep the site clean, okay?

Carl wailed, but then wiped his wet eyelashes, coming to his senses. Looking away, he spanned open the hole in his mother's belly. His hands felt dirty, not because of the blood, but because he was doing something that tormented him. Maggie delved her fingers into the gap, seeing nothing but a canvas of rouge and crimson. But she saw a white contour, with an anthropomorphic shape.

"Alright, I see it…I see it…the ears…I'm gonna pull it out…I can't tell if this is the arm or the leg…okay, I'm gonna pull the baby out."

Carl shuddered. Maggie pulled back. The baby was in her arms, soaked in blood and amniotic fluid, the umbilical cord attached. Maggie patted its stomach and its back. Nothing. _C'mon…c'mon!_ Carl hung his head. If his sibling had died as well, then his mother had perished in vain. More tears were about to well in his eyes, but then the baby released a high-pitched cry. The baby gained life. Maggie peeked between its legs. _A girl. _The baby girl gesticulated her arms and legs. Carl took off his vest and wrapped the baby around it while Maggie severed the cord. She got up, holding the baby close to her chest.

"We have to go."

"We can't just leave her here! She'll turn!"

Maggie opened her mouth, but then she saw Carl slithering his pistol from his holster.

"Carl, no-"

"She's my mom."

She felt wrong about letting him do it. But what could she say? It was his wish, and his mother. She was powerless to stop him, it was something he had to do. She walked away, turning her back to them. Carl stood over his mother, gun in hand. He stared at her lifeless expression. He wished she looked like she was in peace, but he could see the trace of pain and sorrow in her visage. His throat was dry like bark, but he had no more tears to spare. Now, it was nothing but rage, for those monsters who did nothing but eat. And eat, with no limits. Who stripped them from so many people they cared about.

Maggie peeked outside. The walkers were gone. She turned around, forming words in her mouth but then the gunshot echoed. Carl marched towards the exit, brushing past her without crossing her gaze.

* * *

Daryl and Lee advanced through the dark tunnels with flashlights, spotting two walkers at the end of it. Daryl whirred an arrow through one of the skulls, while Lee blew the other's brains out. The two corpses dropped on the ground. Lee guessed he had no more bullets and had to reload. He held his handgun by the barrel, squeezing it between his flank and his left arm, taking out the clip and putting a new one. As they reached the end of the passageway, Lee saw Clementine's hat on the ground. He picked it up, his throat dry. _God, please be okay._

"Geez…" Lee said.

"We oughta go back up." Daryl said, hearing more walkers down the tunnel. "We can't take on a horde by the two of us."

* * *

Rick, Axel and Vince returned to the courtyard. Rick predicted seeing his wife's troubled face along with their child, but they weren't there. Molly, Tyreese and Glenn were there, along with Travis, Beth, Hershel and everyone else. His heart pounded in his chest, fueled by frustration and worry.

"You didn't find 'em?" Hershel asked.

"We thought maybe everyone else had come here." Glenn said.

Hershel, Beth and Travis shook their heads, just as Lee and Daryl burst into the courtyard.

"Shit, they ain't here?!" Lee said.

"The tunnels are full of walkers, couldn't risk go any further." Daryl said.

"We gotta find them, then!"

"You're not going anywhere."

The group swiveled their eyes towards the voice. Dexter stood in front of them, the barrel of a shotgun daggering them with its deathly stare, and pairs of rifles and handguns slung on his back and belt.

"You ain't gonna be searching for nobody, or bossing anyone around, big man. Not after we're done."

"Why're you doing this?!" Lee said.

"In case you haven't noticed." Dexter said, lifting his shotgun to Rick's head. "You ain't in position to ask me shit. Now everyone drop your fucking guns or I'll blow the sheriff's brains all over his nigga friend."

Thuds were heard, from the pistols and melee weapons being dropped on the floor. Lee groaned, knowing that he was wasting precious time with the rebelling prisoner. He had to think of a solution. The others seemed to be doing the same, darting their eyes around their surrroundings. Dexter was outnumbered. But if they attacked them, some of them could die, and that was not an option. Dexter butted the cold barrel against Rick's temple, who didn't even flinch.

"I'mma make this real simple for you, farm boy. We were here first, and you wore out your welcome real quick. Get the fuck outta my house."

"Goddammit, you don't have to do this!" Lee said.

"Yeah, I do. I can't trust the whole lot 'a y'all. And apparently, I can't trust Axel or Bad Luck Vince either."

"So, what? You going to shoot us?" Daryl said.

"That's up to you. Now, I don't want to see any movement unless it's going towards that fucking front gate. And once you're outta here, you're going to leave me and Andrew alone, here."

"We're just going to talk, Dexter." Rick said. "I've dropped my gun! You're in control! So let's just talk, okay? We can sort this out."

"Do what I fucking say or get shot. Those are your only choices right now. See, I don't think you people are paying attention. Get your asses on the motherfuckin' road and walk back the fucking way you came in. We got a good thing here, and I'm not letting you people fuck it up. You start making some forward motion towards getting the fuck out or I start shooting."

"You ain't gotta do this, man." Axel said. "It ain't gotta go down like this, bro. These are good people, you can't fault them for their mistake. You were a likely suspect at the time. You follow me? They were just trying to protect themselves. Please, man. Don't do this."

"You sidin' with 'em, you can leave with 'em. You follow me?!"

"Where did you get those guns?" Rick asked.

"What do you care?!"

"Where did you get those guns?"

"What do you fucking care? I got 'em, is all that matters."

"Where did you get those fucking guns?!"

"The armory. Betcha didn't know about that shit. I kept it off my little tour, made sure not to mention it just in case. It was in A-Block."

"That's what I thought."

"The fuck you mean—oh, motherfucker."

Walkers flushed into the courtyard from the northern edifice. Rick grinned. He had forgotten that the block was mobbed with zombies, and his trip to the armory had set them free. A conundrum fell upon the group - reach for their weapons and risk getting a handful of pellets lodged in their body, or keep their arms raised and get mauled by the walkers. With hesitation, they retrieved their weaponry and the courtyard turned into a shooting range and a fighting ring in an instant, with guns firing and blades sweeping zombies to the ground.

"Everyone, start shooting!" Rick said. "Make sure your shots count!"

"I said nobody fucking moves!" Dexter shouted.

"Are you going to shoot them or are you going to shoot the walkers trying to kill you?!" Lee said. "Pick a side, dumbass."

"Hey, Dexter, pass us some guns!" Vince said.

"We don't wanna scare these things off with our dicks!" Axel said.

Dexter grunted, taking his two rifles and tossing them at Axel and Vince.

"Spread out! Whatever you do, don't let 'em surround us!" Glenn shouted.

Rick saw a zombie out of the corner of his eye lurking behind Dexter. His instinct was to shoot it, but reconsidered. Maybe he should just let it get to him. Ah, f_or fuck's sake._ He raised his arm, euthanizing the walker. Dexter glanced at him, who returned him a sharp glare.

"Don't mean shit. That don't change a fucking thing. Smart man woulda let it get me."

That was all he needed to hear. That was all that was needed to trigger him. It wouldn't change a fucking thing. They were going to be kicked out. And he would not spend another day living in that wasteland.

"Jesus, how many more are there?!" Glenn said.

"That's it! I'm out!" Andrea said.

"Take mine! I'm worthless with it." Dale said, throwing his pistol at her.

"Keep going! We've almost got all of them!" Tyreese said.

Dexter drew his final breath as a bullet penetrated his skull. His burly corpse crumbled on the ground, his eyes rolling in his skull like cue balls. The corner of Rick's lip twitched, his Colt Python erected in his palm with a smoking barrel. Tyreese and Lee sprang their head towards Rick. Lee knew he had done what he had to. He would have done the same thing, like he did to Tomas. He was just glad Dexter was out of the way, and he only had to take care of the walkers before going to find his daughter.

"Dex's been shot!" Axel said.

"Cry me a river." Rick said, holstering his pistol.

"I think that's the last of them!" Daryl said.

The last gunshot reverberated in the air. The ground was layered with stenching cadavers, whose limbs bent in odd angles, the whole forming a grotesque picture.

"Three people who still have loaded guns, I don't care who, need to walk around the yard and make sure no roamers wandered off! Make sure the grounds are safe and clear. And somebody get that fucking door to A-Block shut before more come out. The rest of you, get that gate open and let's start dragging bodies out for burning. It's going to be dark soon."

"Good, but I gotta go back in those tunnels! Clementine's still out there." Lee said.

"I know. We're going back down there, now! Daryl, Lee, you come with-"

The crying of a baby echoed in the air.

Rick held his breath, his eyes bulging out of his cranium as if he was smacked in the head. That crying resonated inside of him, making his whole world fall apart within him like a broken mirror. He turned around. His brain was puzzled by what was going on. He didn't know what was going on. He did know. But he didn't want to accept it. Maggie and Carl limped out of the prison. She was holding a baby in her arms, her knees buckling like a rickety bridge and her face contorted, tears shining from her cheeks and a shaky hum exiting her lips. But Lori wasn't with them. Rick stumbled towards them, letting his axe slip from his fingers. He shook his head. _It can't be. It can't be._ But the truth was written in Maggie's face. He paced around, a single word repeating in his mind. _No. No. No._

"W—where is s—she?"

Maggie didn't reply. She felt as if the simple vibrations of her vocal cords would rattle her whole structure and she would collapse on the ground. Rick marched towards the tunnels, but she fondled his arm, too weak to grip him.

"No…Rick…no…"

Rick halted, shelling his eyes as the tears started to flow. He turned to his son, whose static gaze was focused on the ground, hidden by his sheriff hat.

"Oh no…no…" Rick said, his words devolving into weeps. The tears and sniffles leeched the air out of his lungs, the breaths barely making it past his glass throat and aching chest.

Glenn approached his girlfriend and held her tight. The exhaustion melted the muscles in her legs, and if it were not for his strong arms holding her, she knew she would cave in. Her hands were bloodied. Glenn narrowed his eyebrows. Those hands had performed the operation that reaped Lori's life, and that realization made him tightened his grasp on her. She could barely breathe as more tears forced their way out of her tear ducts, her strengths dedicated to holding the baby with fragile arms. Lee lowered his gaze, feeling a sting in his chest for his friend. Rick was already pushed to brink by all the weight he carried on his shoulders, and his worry that he would go over the edge iced his spine like the touch of a cold finger. There was nothing his group could do for Rick, aside from bending their heads down and say nothing.

Rick's legs wobbled and he crumbled on the ground, sobbing away as an out-of-reach sunny and blue sky gazed down at him.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: Lori wasn't supposed to die in this chapter, but she truly started to get under my skin. And I'm the author of this story! I thought her comic character wasn't as bad, but y'all know that I kill a character as soon as I get the chance! I've got the motherfucking Death Note of this story and I'm not afraid to use it! So treat Wolf here with some respect or I'll send Clementine ****and Omid and Lee into the afterlife. **

**Also, I created a little webpage with the list of every named character in the story and their status, in case you need to remind yourself or keep track. I can't write links, so just follow my instructions: write my username, then write "fanfic freeforums net" with a dot in the place of each space, then paste "****/thread/5/twd-new-day-bye****".**


	63. The Walking Dead

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 63 – THE WALKING DEAD**

**Watchmen1985:**** "[…] are you gonna let judith die like the comics or let her live also i got an idea for your story i gave this to another walking dead author r.e.w.4 is his name and i said to him could you have abraham know larry and lily because there ex military and i was thinking this could abraham have been larry cauls protege in the army like thats where he got his attitude from fun fact here my mom named abraham big red get it cause hes a big guy with ginger hair maybe you could have that be his code name when he was in the army also what did you think of the season 7 trailer for the walking dead i loved it"**

**Answer:**** As always, you will just have to read on to find out what happens to Judith. That idea of Abraham knowing Lilly is a very good one, along with his nickname Big Red, and I'll be sure to implement it. It will be a good way to expand Lilly's breadth of interactions with the characters (if she lives to the point of meeting Abe, muahahaha!). The Season 7 trailer was very good, liked the montage at the beginning in which the characters reminisced of their past in the series. They did a good pick for Ezekiel and Shiva! Carol seems to have an interesting storyline as well. Though I'm still keeping my expectations low after the clusterfuck that was Season 6, and the trailer might be just undelivered hype. Also, I read your other two suggestions. I don't think it's a good idea for Michonne and Lee to be cousins just because, well, they're urban, and just seems unappealing. However I did like the one with Caesar living, I always did like his character and was a shame he died early on. **

**dimmensions:**** "i can't wait till the governor shows up and as a suggestion u should give travis axels death in the tv show like when he confesses to beth and them bamm dead"**

**Answer:**** Thanks for the suggestion, I always take them into consideration. That would really be an abrupt sendoff though, not sure I would have the balls to do it since I love Travis so much. #TeamTravis**

* * *

"_Rick? Rick?_ _Rick, you with me?_"

Words translated into slurred noises in Rick's head. He couldn't hear a damned thing, except for that baby crying. That fucking baby crying. A persistent crying that seemed to go off the decibel chart and rattle his ears to a breaking point. Each breath hurt him, and they became shorter and sharper as rage heated inside him past a hundred degrees, like a water kettle left too long on the stove. At first, the water was still. But now it started to boil. And it burned.

Lee waved his hand in front of Rick, kneeled to his height. He sat on the ground. His dilated pupils stared into a void of another universe. With a lump in his throat, he snapped his fingers. Nothing. It was like trying to find a person who was right in front of him, but wasn't there. _Rick, are you in there? Please, Rick. Do you see me? _ Lee sighed, looking to the ground as he slumped his hand against his knee. No, he wasn't there, and he was benumbed to his best friend. Lee got up. Only the sheriff could snap out of his own trance. Lee walked toward the others. He glanced past his shoulder. Rick remained in the same position. His heart pinched him to go back to him, but there was nothing he could do for him. At least not now.

The courtyard was silent, aside from the acute cries of the baby. After so many life threatening situations they experienced and so many people they lost, the following silence was always the worst. The breeze whistled, kicking up dust. Christa and Omid locked their hands, feeling a prickle in her stomach as she watched the wrapped baby in Maggie's arms. Kenny folded his arms and shifted his gaze elsewhere. Seeing a newborn in such a fucked up world, it resurfaced memories he thought he had long forgotten. His eyelashes batted a tear away, knowing that he couldn't dwell on the past.

"Let me see the baby." Hershel said.

Glenn crutched Maggie as she limped to her dad, as if she was one-legged like her father. The others flocked around the veterinarian. Molly patted Lee on his shoulder, giving him a stern look. _You did all you could_. Hershel cradled the baby and removed the blanketing shirt. The group rose on their toes, looking at the baby as if he was unraveling the contents of a valuable treasure.

"How we gonna feed it? Got anything a baby can eat?" Daryl said.

"Good news is, she seems healthy." Hershel said. "But she needs formula. And soon, or she won't survive."

Daryl shook his head, throwing his crossbow onto his shoulder.

"Nope, no way. Not her. We ain't losin' anybody else, I'm going for a run."

"I'll back you up." Maggie said.

"I'll go too." Glenn said.

"I can only take one person on my bike." Daryl said.

"I'll go, then." Maggie said.

"Maggie, no…" Glenn gently clutched her wrist. A few seconds ago she could barely hold her footing, and now she wanted to go on a supply run. "After what you've been through…"

"Glenn, I have to." Maggie said, her eyes glowing but her voice steady, and her posture now straight. "For Lori, I have to."

Glenn nodded, his conscience telling him she shouldn't go, but she needed to do it. The determination was engraved in her eyes. A necessity to rid herself of the guilt. Glenn let go of her wrist.

"Okay. Just be safe."

Daryl nudged his head towards his gate. Without wasting a second, the two sprinted to his motorcycle.

Rick jerked his neck, the tears dried within him. Now inside him, there was just a hole, where the kettle of fury menaced to ignite him in flames. And just like the smoke of flaming water would make a smoke alarm go off, the fury triggered his most primal and violent instincts, shattering his hypnosis. His mind returned to reality, and his eyeS fell upon his axe, laying a few steps away like a loyal dog. He tensed his muscles and got on his feet, grappling the weapon and marching towards the tunnels. Lee and Andrea sprang around, along with the others, spotting the man through the corner of their eyes.

"Rick, no!" Andrea said.

Rick vanished into the prison, the words bouncing off him like ricochet.

"Fuck…he's not well at all." Lee said.

"What the hell are we going to do now?" Billy said.

"Start piling up the bodies. I gotta go down there, keep searching. Clementine and the others are holing up somewhere, I know it."

"Then let's haul ass, we're losing time." Molly said, pickaxe slung in her back.

* * *

Rick clutched his axe tightly and stopped in front of a grated door. The darkness of the tunnels bathed him, a welcomed sight compared to the sickening brightness outside. The walkers had dispersed, and a few individual ones roamed about, skinny as marionettes dressed in jumpsuits. Rick growled and yanked the door back, marching in their direction with heavy steps. The first undead prisoner turned its head towards him, a darkened tongue writhing between shuttering jaws. He rained a swing on him. The blade drilled his face, cracking its nasal bones and caving its eyeballs further in. Before it could hit the floor, he was already targeting the next zombie. The axe cleaved horizontally through its cranium, its upper half ejecting into the air like a mechanical spring.

Liberating a canine howl at each blow that split heads, squished blood, severed necks and mangled rotten faces, the fury couldn't be attenuated. Another swing sliced the air. And another. And another. Rick butted his forehead against a cold wall, quivering breaths waving out of his lips. The blood soaked his t-shirt and adorned his face like tribal tattoos. His bulging crystal eyes didn't blink. Behind him, a trail of fallen zombies traced his footsteps, their faces bashed in to crimson pap like crushed grapefruits.

"Rick?"

Tyreese gulped, staring at the carnage at his feet. Rick had his back turned against him. Tyreese walked towards him, placing each foot as if he was treading a mined field. Despite knowing him to be a reasonable man, the corpses laying about indicated that he had turned into a beast whose rational side might be absent.

"Everyone's worried about you. You shouldn't be in here. Rick?"

Rick pivoted towards him, his killer gaze staggering him. Tyreese withdrew his head. His eyes crossed his then rolled about, as if he didn't quite perceive the man in front of him.

"You ain't gotta do this by yourself…prison's clear, we can just shut the doors again. Rick…why don't you come with me?"

Tyreese knew it was a risky move, but he tried it. He put his hand on his shoulder. Rick grasped him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. Tyreese could easily counter him with his bulkier physique, but a fight wouldn't make things better. He raised his hands and let the man subdue him. Rick's nose almost touched his as they locked in a tense stare. Rick hung his head as sharp breaths pierced his nostrils, almost as if he was sniffing out the man, not recognizing him. Thus, his feral instincts instructed to attack. Tyreese measured his words by the syllable.

"Yeah…yeah…it's me…look, man…"

Rick shoved him away. Tyreese maintained his balance. Rick spat a glare at him, a clear warning. _Go away. _He marched down the tunnels once again, searching for reanimated prey. Tyreese recomposed himself, sighing. He turned around. Two flashlights beamed in the tunnels. Lee and Molly came into view, a frown stamped on their faces.

"What's going on?" Lee asked. "We heard some noise."

"Found Rick, tried to calm him. But he's fucked up, man. Seemed for a minute he wanted to kill me." Tyreese breathed. "Look, I respect Rick, but this…this…after all the shit he went through, losing his wife might have been the tip of the iceberg. What if he loses it? I mean, we have to think about this place, about the group. I'm not sure if Rick is going to be able to be in charge of things from now on."

"So, you're stepping up?" Molly snorted.

"No. I'm just saying that this is really gonna screw with his head. I know you care about him and all, but after he grieves, we gotta make sure he isn't too far gone."

"You don't know Rick." Lee said. "Not like me. Give him time. He's a person like any of us, and he has to mourn. But he won't go crazy. This won't break him."

"We oughta keep searching for Clementine." Molly said.

"She's right." Lee turned to Tyreese. "Go back up and help the others. We've gotta keep looking."

* * *

Glenn thrust his shovel deep into the dirt, tiny bits of frustration and sorrow leaking out of his body with each shovelful. Three graves, three crosses. _LORI. BILLY. BEN. _In one day, three people. He was hopeful that the prison meant they would stop losing people. But death was the sneakiest of all, and it always found its way in everywhere. The alarms had stirred up the walkers, and the fence was caked with them, clawing at the steel and biting the fence ligaments as if they ironically tried to dig a passageway into the prison. The others were dragging the vast array of cadavers in the courtyard to a corner, trying to keep going as if nothing had happened, although their worry for Rick still itched the back of their heads. Hershel stood by the courtyard fence, watching over his son-in-law. Axel and Vince walked up to Glenn. Vince crossed his arms with a straight face, albeit Axel's expression was weighed down by mutual empathy. Glenn wiped his forehead, drawing a breath as he leaned against the wooden tip of his shovel.

"How's the perimeter look?" Glenn asked.

"We got the walkers spread out." Vince said.

"You, uh, need any help?" Axel said. "Your friends, they were, uh, they were good folks."

"They were family."

"I think I've known one person like that my whole life." Vince said. "You got a whole group. Sorry you lost them."

Glenn dropped his shovel next to another other that laid on the grass. "I need two more."

Glenn marched up the slope. Axel nodded and willingly grabbed the shovel, but Vince glared past his shoulder at Glenn, snorting. It was their dead to bury, it wasn't their duty. But if he wanted to stay in the prison, he had to get on the good side of the group. He forced himself to pick up the shovel, and the two men dug a grave in unison. Vince grunted at each thrust into the dirt, both from the effort and the small dose of disdain.

"Rick?" Glenn asked.

"Still inside." Hershel said.

"The others?"

"Lee and Molly are still searching."

Glenn sighed. "Three of our group in one day."

"'Cause of a few assholes."

"At least Axel and Vince seem like good guys. But I'd trade anyone for one of ours any day."

Hershel held his hand through the fence. Glenn sighed, the man's compassionate warmth traveling through their touch.

* * *

The sunset loomed beyond the mountains. The roar of the engine throbbed the duo atop the motorcycle. Daryl narrowed his eyelids as the wind slapped his face, the trees turning into speckles around them as they advanced towards their destination, fast, as if they were on a railway. The building stood on the horizon, small as a doll house. Sometimes, a walker or two roamed about on the road, but they speeded past them, their moans being heard for a split second before disappearing behind them. Yet they knew that within the forest, handfuls of them must have been piling together, drawn to the noise of the vehicle. They just took their time, dragging their feet.

Maggie held the man in front of her by the waist. Lost in a train of thought, her mind voyaged a half an hour into the past. The surgical yet disastrous operation she performed that took Lori's life still chilled her spine, but a new purpose put those memories aside. She could repay what she was forced to do. By keeping Judith alive. She was no longer frail. Her wrist was strong and ready to wield her machete.

Daryl eased his motorcycle into silence, the wheels halting as he twisted the keys. The doll house was in front of them now, but it still looked like a big-sized kid's toy. The sign with joyful, smiley faces branded the building as a daycare. The playground, surrounded by a short fence that could only prevent the passage of toddlers, comported a seesaw and swings, that still waved back and forth gently as if children's ghosts were playing on them. Daryl slid his crossbow onto his hands.

"They're close. Stay tight." Daryl said.

Daryl and Maggie vaulted over the fence, heading towards a window. He peeked inside. No walkers in sight. Maggie banged her machete against the glass, shattering it with a loud chime. If the engine hadn't awakened the dead, that noise would. Daryl kept his eye fixated past his shoulder as Maggie slid one leg inside. Once she was in the interior, Daryl punched the remnants of glass stuck on the edges of the windowsill before hopping inside.

Maggie glimpsed around the room. Her boots stomped puzzle-shaped mats with big letters on them. Cubes with numbers littered the floor, mixed with the darkened contents of a fallen trashcan. Daryl stood behind her as they stared towards the wall. The kids of when the daycare bustled had stamped their hands with paint on sheets of paper, their names written on them in sloppy and curved handwriting, obviously belonging to kids. _Sofie. Chester. Alyssa. George. Crystal. Veronica. _A drop of nostalgia seeped into their breaths, but it vanished like dust in a second. Maggie darted towards a few cupboards, yanking them back. Daryl looked at the painted hands for a few moments longer, then marched towards a hallway on the opposite side of the playroom.

Maggie didn't see any formula in the compartment. But there were baby bottles, diapers and towels. She shoved them into her backpack, then joined Daryl in the obscure hall. They placed each step with care. They hadn't found any walkers yet, and their absence was disturbing. Almost like a sign that something was wrong. But perhaps it was just sheer luck. Light shed into the hall through the opened doorways. Daryl remained with his crossbow erect, while Maggie peeped into the rooms. A bathroom with a diaper changer, another playroom, a pantry with its cupboards flung open and empty. There was only one door that was closed. Maggie and Daryl backed against each one against a doorpost. Daryl revolved the handle while Maggie tightened her grip on her machete.

He let the door swing on its hinges. Jackpot. A kitchen unfolded in front of them. But there was a closet in the corner, with one of its doors budging. Something or someone was inside. Daryl signaled Maggie with his head and aimed his crossbow at the closet. She yanked back the door.

The bead-eyes of a hissing possum stared up at the two humans.

An arrow punctured the animal with a whir, silencing it after a squeal.

"Hello, dinner." Daryl said.

"I'm not putting that in my bag." Maggie rolled her eyes.

Daryl reached into the shelf and picked up the carcass, bagging his kill. Maggie opened the cupboard. A pair of powder milk cans shined in front of her like beacons of hope. She sighed and stuffed them into her bag.

* * *

"Lee! Over there!"

Molly cast her flashlight at the door of solitary cell that budged. Lee darted his eyes towards her direction. He hoped she had found a clue on where the missing ones could be, but it was just some walker that was stuck inside and needed to be dealt with. They had been searching for a while, and the preoccupation grew within him, making his breaths heavier. _Where are you, Clementine?_

"Seems to be just a weak one." Lee said. "Open the door."

Molly gripped the handle. Lee raised his machete. She yanked back the door. He lurched forward, swinging his machete. But his shoulder locked in place. In the beam of the flashlight that revealed helixes of dust in the air, they were there. Carol clutched onto Sophia, while Lilly sat by a curled Clementine. Their skin was laden with the must of the miniature cell and their pupils violently shrunk when they looked at the flashlight. Lee let out a throbbing breath, the corner of his lip rising. The girl's eyes sparkled, that one spark of recognition that ignited only when she saw Lee.

"Oh, God…"

Lee dropped next to Clementine and the two grappled each other tightly.

"You found us…" Carol coughed.

"Jesus, let's get you outta here." Molly said, lending Carol a hand. "You okay, Lilly?"

"I'm…fine!" Lilly said, leaning against the wall as she rose to her feet.

Molly hoisted Carol up, wrapping her arm around her shoulder as she held Sophia's hand close to her. Lilly walked behind them. Lee slid his arm underneath Clementine, but she lifted an opened hand.

"I can walk, Lee."

Lee raised his eyebrows, then just nodded. The two strolled behind the others.

"Are you okay, Clementine?" Lee asked.

"I'm glad that you found me." She smiled.

"I'll always come for you, you know that. You sure you okay?"

"I'm okay. I'm not scared anymore of them. Like before."

"You, uh, you had to kill them?"

"Just one."

Lee nodded. "I always knew you were a tough cookie."

* * *

Rick stumbled into the workshop, axe in one hand and Colt Python in the other one. The tunnels were clear. This was the only place she could be in. The animal inside him was still there, but it was latent for the moment since there were no more walkers to unleash it on in the meantime. He hesitated in glancing towards the middle of the room. He pictured it in his head. His wife laying on the ground, her flat stomach carved open, a creek of blood surrounding her and flowing underneath her. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, knowing that he would never forget what he would see. He turned his head. He stopped breathing with what he saw instead.

Instead of seeing his wife, there was something else. A skeleton. Thin hunks of flesh were still attached to the limbs, the ribcage and the cranium, but otherwise, there was nothing. Blood pulp drenched the cadaver and destroyed its identity. The lump in his throat now turned into pointy rocks, suffocating him and slitting his phalanx from within. His whole face trembled as he took baby steps towards the skeleton. That was his wife? That mass of bones? A knife with crusted blood laid nearby. He fell to his knees, his eyes falling upon a small object that sent a chill down his spine. He bent down and picked it up with his fingertips. A bullet casing. He felt sick in his stomach, his intestines combusted and each heartbeat hurt him, as if he was being dissected alive. He glanced at the face of that skeleton, a tear running down his face. _I can't recognize you…I can't recognize you._

He heard a growl to his side, almost sounding like a burp. He pivoted his head. A shirtless walker slumped against the wall, its mouth soaked in blood and its belly bloated. It took Rick a second to piece what happened and the rage fired up within him once again. He marched towards it and towered over it. The walker barely found the strengths to raise its arm, trying to claw at the sheriff. Rick's lip twitched. It devoured an entire person that was dear to him, its stomach almost bursting apart. Yet it wanted more. More. Sickening. Rick kneeled in front of the living corpse, grasping its wrist and pinning it against the wall. He stared into his eyes, as if in a game of male dominance, jerking his neck. The zombie's bleached eyes didn't light up any emotion, looking at him with the emptiness of a machine. Rick shoved the barrel of his hefty revolver in its mouth, scrambling its tongue about as if he wanted it to taste the metal. Rick turned his head away, a continuous yell braiding out of his mouth as he squeezed the trigger.

The bullet of a strong caliber rattled the walls, deafening Rick for a second as a splatter of blood splashed onto the wall behind the zombie.

Then, he took out his knife. He stabbed its stomach repeatedly, whimpers and screams mixing into one as they fled his lips. Squishes of blood wetted his fingers. But then, he removed his knife from the corpse. Tears mixed with the blood in his cheeks. He couldn't recover her from the stomach of that diseased monster. He dropped onto a sitting position and dragged himself towards a wall, leaning its back against it.

Silence. His tears stopped. The pain within him intensified. He stared into nothingness, his whole body limp. And then, there was another noise. A baby's cry. It was distant at first, but then it drew closer, until it was like it was just beside its ear. He did nothing to resist that cry that tormented him and fueled his rage, that was like a haunting of all the mistakes he had done before, and this suffering was his manner of atoning.

A telephone rang.

Rick perked up. His brows narrowed. His eyes flared up. The crying vanished. He hauled himself onto his feet, limping towards a quaint, black telephone placed atop the workbench. The ferocity within him dissolved, his common sense returning to him. A glimpse of hope shone inside of him. He picked up the phone. The ringing stopped. He brought the device to his ear, his groggy voice coming out in a murmur.

"Hello?"

"_Hello?!_"

The voice belonged to a young woman. Rick frowned, relief invading him as he heard other survivors. He had trouble believing it for a second, but his ears didn't fool him.

"_Is—is someone there?_"

"Yes! Yes! Who is-?"

"_Oh my God! I can't believe someone picked up! We've been calling since—since it all started._"

"Where are you?"

"_I can't say._"

"You could be a thousand miles away."

"_I'm not going to say where we are._"

"Are you—are you someplace safe?"

"_Yeah. And part of it is because we're careful. I can't tell you where we are, I'm sorry._"

"What ma—what makes your place so safe?"

"_It's just…away…from them._"

"I have a son…I have…I have a newborn baby. I'm with a good group of people, would you be willing…? Could you take in others? We can pull our weight, we can help you."

"_I'd have to talk to the group._"

"Well, p—put them on! Let me make a case!"

"_Let me talk to them first._"

Rick gasped, his shred of hope slipping through his fingers.

"Please, please, don't—don't go…! Just—please, we're a good group of people here. We—we just need some help, we can help you-!"

"_I'll call you in two hours._"

"Please!" Rick whimpered, his face contorting from the tears as he clutched the phone as if it were his dear life. "You don't understand, you don't know! We're dying…we're dying here…"

The phone clicked. Rick set down the phone, blinking away the tears and glanced at his watch. _Two hours. _He looked down at his own image. He looked like a beast, his t-shirt soaked in sweat and blood gluing to his torso. He wiped the blood off his face and arms the best he could, remembering that there was someone else who needed him to be there.

* * *

Andrea rubbed her hands together, a cloud of oxygen swiveling out of her lips. Her poncho and her blond ponytail flew in the wind. The cold bristled her hairs, but at least they kept her lively. Plus, it would be tough falling asleep while leaning against the railing of a six-meter tall watchtower, knowing that below the walkers growled at her. Daryl and Maggie still weren't back, but they had to be prepared to receive them as quickly as possible. She had her rifle standing next to her like a talking buddy, while Kenny and Travis strolled around the gate. ´

The uproar of a motorcycle resounded on the road. Andrea straightened, a pair of headlights blinding her as she reached for her rifle.

"They're back! Clear a path!" Andrea said.

Kenny jogged down the fence, taunting the walkers and running his fire poker down the steel filaments. About a dozen walkers stretched their lips against the fence, stumbling after the beautifully mustached man, but the denser packs lingered around the front gate, the white meteors in their skulls twirling towards the bike. Travis stood one step away from the gate, far enough so that the walkers didn't slide their arms in and scratch him. Andrea looked down the scope of the rifle, her gunshots owning the night and picking off walkers.

Daryl halted his motorcycle, distant from the gate. Those fucking alarms brought a dense horde to their fence, and while a few of them were led astray by Kenny, dozens of others were shuffling in their direction.

"Daryl! I can't create a breach!" Andrea shouted.

"Shit. We gotta clear a path ourselves." Daryl said.

Daryl and Maggie unsaddled off the bike and whipped out their weapons. Maggie assumed an offensive stance, her machete beaming its sharp glare towards the silhouettes camouflaged by the night. A walker wearing overalls locked its gaze on Daryl. He looked down the scope and readied his finger on the trigger, but before he could squeeze it, a human shadow danced behind the zombie, a blade swung in the air, and its head sprang off its neck.

Daryl removed his eye from the red scope. Maggie held a breath. The corpse of the undead farmer collapsed on the ground and revealed a person standing there like a falling curtain showing an actor upon a theater stage. A beige poncho with a hoodie hid the identity of the survivor, his legs, arms and face veiled by twilight. But his oddity was what flashed at them. A long blade reflected the glowering moonlight, sticking out of a katana blade he clutched tightly. But the stranger thing were the two walkers he kept leashed with chains. The two domesticated zombies stood behind their master like dogs, their jaws and arms maimed and leaving behind stumps with blood black as ink.

Daryl and Maggie exchanged a glance, speechless, as the survivor spun around and swooped her katana once more, cracking apart a walker's skull as if she was splitting logs. She proceeded, dashing among the walkers with the agility and invisibility of a ninja, only the light of her mirroring blade giving away her position. Maggie forgot about the stranger and hacked at a walker that ganged up on her, while Daryl took aim and arrowed another marching corpse to the afterlife. Maggie looked at Daryl, asking him through her gaze what they should do about the stranger. Daryl just shrugged. She or he was helping them clear out a path, and the walkers were the threat they should prioritize.

They turned back to the mysterious person. Within about ten seconds, she cleaved an opening through the zombies, that now laid on ground in defeat while he stood above the cadavers, like a mighty statue of a historical figure.

"Who are you?" Maggie asked.

"Hurry up before they flock!" Andrea shouted.

He took off her hoodie. She was a dark woman, with a batch of dreadlocks on her head held back by a headband. The adrenaline of the fight still glowed in her eyes, but it slowly dissipated and her visage softened.

"Name's Michonne. Don't suppose I could crash with you?"

"Get in, dammit!" Andrea shouted.

Daryl loaded another arrow into his crossbow, pondering. She helped them. His conscience told him they should help her. But letting more people into the prison would surely irk Rick. But leaving her out in the wild seemed wrong after her aid. Plus, more walkers were stumbling out of the forest, given away by the rustles and crunches of dry sticks, and he didn't have a lot of time to make a choice.

"Fine. But you gon' have to give up that katana and kill those two walkers."

"These? Okay. Won't be needing them anymore."

Michonne swung her katana and decapitated the two zombies with one swift motion. Daryl stayed stoical while Maggie spanned her eyelids. The two heads crumbled on the ground with thuds like pumpkins, their teeth still battering with an eerie clicking. Michonne drove her katana through their temples, terminating any life within them.

Travis slid the gate open, a great admiration growing within him after seeing the spectacular massacre, even though it was at a distance. Daryl ran to the gate while pushing his motorcycle, Michonne and Maggie jogging after him.

* * *

The courtyard still had corpses needing clearing, but with nightfall they paused the task to resume it at break of dawn. The whole group bunked in the visitor's room, sitting on the stools or the tables. Their tired eyes stared at Carl, who cradled his baby sister, who didn't stop crying. Hershel sat next to the boy, his eye surveilling the infant, knowing that she would keep crying until her starving stomach was satisfied. Chuck smiled as he looked at the baby, something he never thought he would again in such a doomed world.

"She a cute one." Chuck said.

Daryl and Maggie erupted through the door, their backpacks already dangling off their elbows. Michonne stood by the entranceway, accompanied by Andrea, Kenny and Travis, but with their sluggishness they didn't even notice the new face.

"Beth." Maggie said, her sister rushing to her side.

"How she doin'?" Daryl asked.

Maggie emptied the contents of her bag onto a table, the can of powdered milk sticking out of the towels and diapers. Beth unscrewed a baby bottle as Maggie's hands reached for a canteen of water. Daryl squatted down and put his leathery hands tenderly under the baby. Carl let him hold her. Daryl shushed her with a gentle hiss, swaying her. Her whimpers eased, but then she kept crying at full volume. Beth's hand stretched towards him with the baby bottle filled with milk. He put the bottle in front of her mouth. The baby suckled on the liquid, ceasing her wails. Daryl grinned at the newborn.

"She got a name yet?" Daryl asked.

"Not yet." Carl said. "But I was thinking Lori. Or Amy. Jacqui. Lacey. Patricia. Katjaa. Carley. Julie. I dunno."

Kenny extended his eyelids, folding his arms, while Tyreese frowned. Andrea remained straight. The mood was killed in the room. But Daryl knew how to bring it back.

"You like that, huh? Little Ass-Kicker? Right? That's a good name, right? Little Ass-Kicker, huh? You like that? You like that, sweetheart?"

The silent room boiled with laughter, but Kenny stayed austere and Christa didn't laugh either. They were so caught up in their brief bubble of joy and fatigue that they didn't notice Lee, Molly, Clementine, Carol, Sophia and Lilly standing by the hallway. Trapped in a stilled hourglass, they stared at the hardened man that proved to be a natural at soothing a baby. Lilly's lips briefly quivered into a smile. Omid leaned closer to Christa and his voice exited in a whisper.

"You seem worried."

"I just thought about how Lori died at childbirth. And I'm starting to fret about this." Christa said, patting her stomach. "About me."

"Look, I talked to Hershel. He told me Lori already had a C-Section with Carl, and that Maggie had to perform a second one to get the baby out. But this is your first time and you're healthy. We've got a nursery in this prison and a doctor. It'll be okay."

Christa nodded, half-convinced, and laid her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her neck.

"Plus, he's my kid. He's gonna be a four-foot tall badass."

* * *

Rick paced around the workshop. He dragged whatever remained of his wife to another place, out of sight. He couldn't lay his eye upon that fleshy skeleton. Somehow, the cold walls isolating him from everything else were a relief. Those people upstairs did nothing but shoot him daggering gazes, as if he had gone mad. But no, he was now sane as he could be. He had to be, if he wanted to guarantee them a place in that community. He would find them a place of safety, no matter the cost.

The telephone rang. Rick warped his hand to the phone and in an instant it was butted against his ear.

"Hello?"

"_You the guy she was talking to?_"

The nasal voice was that of a man.

"Yes."

"_And you want to come where we are?_"

"She said it was safe."

"_It is. No attacks, no one's been bitten, no one's died, no one's turned, no one's gone crazy._"

Rick wiped his forehead. Could such a place really be possible? They must have been somewhere truly isolated, where the walkers couldn't reach. An island, a mountain enclosure or maybe underground. But a place where people didn't snap and create conflict was a miracle, somewhere he wouldn't hesitate going.

"Yes. We want to come where you are."

"_You could be dangerous. Have you killed anyone?_"

Rick pondered whether or not he should tell the truth, if he wanted to gain their favor.

"Yes. People who threatened me or threatened my group."

"_How many people have you killed?_"

Rick counted with his fingers. _Brenda St. John. Dave. Tony. One bandit at least. Three guys from the Living. Dexter._ Eight people, albeit he knew that during some gunfire exchanges he had he might have killed more than he realized.

"Eight. Someone who tried to chop us to pieces. Two who drew on me. Four who wanted to kill us. One who wanted to kick us out to our deaths."

"_How did you lose your wife?_"

Rick narrowed his eyelids.

"How do you know I had a wife?"

"_You have a boy and a baby. Tell me how you lost your wife._"

Rick's lips trembled, the scars yet too fresh in his memory to be exposed.

"I—I don't want to talk about that."

The phone clicked.

"Hello? Hello?! No!"

Rick slammed the phone, kicking the workbench. Piles of screws and bolts flew off the wooden surface and tinkled as they rained onto the concrete floor. He panted, bending down and hitting his forehead against the edge of the table. _Please, call back. Please. _He could not lose this one shred of hope he had left. They had to call back. They had to. A door shrieked outside. Rick erected himself, darting his gaze towards the door. Hershel hobbled into the room, his wrinkled gaze crossing his. Rick shifted his vision elsewhere, indifferent to his presence. Hershel nudged his chin towards a nearby stool.

"May I?"

Rick grumbled, jerking his neck. _For fuck's sake. _He dragged the stool next to the man with his face turned away, keeping their interaction to a minimum. Hershel set the crutches aside and sat on the stool, looking down at his stump and rubbing it. Rick crossed his hands in front of his hips, just waiting for the man to give his advice and leave.

"Still feel it. I'm wiggling my toes right now." Hershel chuckled. "I'm a ghost from the knee down."

"I'm sorry."

"You saved my life, Rick. She was sorry for the things that happened. She told me that. She planned on telling you. Take your time, whatever you need. You carried us. You didn't let us give up, you got us here."

"It's not enough. It's not safe enough."

"There isn't anywhere else. I know you want to get away from this, but we've run already."

Rick anchored his head, running his fingers through his hair.

"I got a call."

Hershel stared at him.

"What?"

"Someone called. On this phone." Rick pointed his finger towards the black telephone. "A woman. She was young. She was part of a group. She said they have a safe place."

Hershel kept staring at the man. He brought the phone to his ear. White noise. He set down the speaker.

"They said they were just dialing numbers and I picked up. She said they'd be calling back. If it sounds right, I want to talk them into taking us in."

"Did she say where they were?"

Rick jerked his neck. "No, but it doesn't matter. If it's safe, we'll get there. Don't tell the rest of the group, not yet."

"I'll sit here with you. That's something I'm pretty good at nowadays."

"No."

Hershel nodded repeatedly, reaching for his crutches. "Alright."

Rick watched Hershel swing towards the exit. The thump of his crutches hitting the floor echoed in the tunnels, until they disappeared from earshot with the distance. Rick exhaled. The lonesomeness set in once more, comforting him.

The phone rang. Rick reached for the speaker.

"Hello?"

"_You didn't want to tell him how your wife died?_"

It was another woman, who sounded a bit older.

"No, I just lost her. But…but if that's what it takes-"

"_It'd be good. You should talk about it, Rick._"

"That sounds—"

The words got caught in Rick's throat.

"How—how do you know my name?"

The phone clicked. This time, he wasn't angry. He set down the speaker, glancing past his shoulders as if he expected to see eyes on the walls watching him. Were those people spying on them? No, it couldn't be. They couldn't have gotten close enough to learn their names and not have been caught. For a moment, Rick questioned his own reality. Had he really gone crazy? Did he deserve those staggering looks from his group he would surely get? His fingers quavered, sending gentle stings of pain down his broken hand. No more rage beat within his heart. Only fear now.

The phone rang once more. He didn't rush to it like before. He reached for the phone with a slow arm stretch, as if he was stalling. He picked up the phone.

"How did you know my name?"

"_Because we know you._"

It was a different woman, whose voice was a bit familiar.

"How do you know me?" Rick asked, the fear kneaded into his voice.

"_And you know them. The people you were talking to today, that was Amy, Mark, Katjaa._"

His field of vision spiraled out of focus as it felt like a hot rod was melting his brain. It wasn't real. He was crazy. He squatted down, propping against the workbench with one hand. Static noise sizzled on the other side. He knew who was speaking on the other end. And now, only one word could form around his lips as the tears welled in his eyes.

"Lori…? Lori…? Lori…? Lori…?"

"_What happened, Rick? Baby, what happened?_"

Rick tightened his fist, his eyes glinting with tears bright as sparks, struggling to form words with his sandpaper and swollen tongue.

"I loved you…I loved you…I couldn't put it back together…I thought it was…I made a deal with myself…I would keep you alive…I'd find a place, I'd fix that, and then…I couldn't open that door, I couldn't risk it…I was gonna keep you alive…Carl, the baby, and then…I thought there'd be time…there's never time. But I loved you. I love you. I couldn't put it back together. I should've said it. I should've said it."

"_Rick. Now you listen to me. You have a baby. Our baby. And Carl. And the others. I love you. Rick, can you do that? Can you do that? Rick? Rick?_"

The voice became more garbled until it was just a sizzling repeating his name. Rick set down the phone, his cheeks drenched in tears. His wife was gone. There was no safe place. They would just continue surviving anyway they could until one day their luck ran out. But goddamn, he would succumb to the wildest of savageries to keep the others safe. Dawn broke outside, straws of feeble light piercing a grated window. He glanced towards the door. The solitude was now a haunting, an unbearable feeling. Maybe his place wasn't in that dark dungeon, alone and destroyed. Maybe he had people up there who worried about him, and his place was among them.

* * *

Carl yawned, slumped against one of the round tables. The visitor's room was emptier now, as most of the others were outside, clearing out the rest of the walkers. Beth stirred a soup pot for lunch, while Travis leaned against the wall next to her, telling her bland jokes, whose bad quality made her giggle. Lee, Clementine and Dale sat by the stairs, their eyes riveted to the hallway, anticipating in their mind the sheriff popping up at the door. Perhaps somewhat recovered, ready to move on, or still caught up in his blind rage. Hershel cradled the soothed baby on his arms.

Carl wished his father could be there. After euthanizing his mother, he couldn't feel a thing. He didn't care about his growling stomach. He didn't care about his lethargy that begged him to dive into a bed. He didn't care if Carol, Lilly, Sophia and Clementine were safe. He was numb. And if only he had a warm, paternal hand that clutched his shoulder and told him things were going to be okay. But instead, his dad was locked in his own delirium, apathetic to everyone else. Even to the consolation that Hershel tried to provide.

"Damn, that smells good. What's in it?" Travis asked.

"C'mon, it's nothing special. Lettuce and beans."

"Still, smells like Gordon Ramsay is cooking this."

Beth chuckled, but heavy footsteps heading towards that room made her shut her mouth. Rick stood there. His murky t-shirt had been switched to a checkered black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His revolver was sheathed into his holster. The fire of the beast in his eyes turned to low embers. Travis, Beth and Hershel returned their eyes to the tasks they performed, not wanting to stab the man with too many stares. Lee rose to his feet. Rick didn't look at any of them, his eyes focused on one sole thing. His baby daughter.

Rick walked towards Hershel, scratching his head. She had blue eyes. His eyes. Rick stiffed his shaky arms as Hershel passed him his daughter. Rick brought her closer to his face, his heart warming as he felt her body gesticulating in his arms. Tears came to his eyes, but his lips curved in a smile. Sadness and joy braided into one inside him, in a cocktail of several emotions striking him at once. He lost a loved one, but gained another one. He was right. He never should have been alone down there, releasing his anger on the walkers, talking to himself, all alone. His life was among these people. His son. His daughter. His friends. Hershel simpered, spotting the glow of hope flowering back in his eyes.

Rick sniffled. He was ready. He was ready to start anew, to move on. He would always dearly remember his wife, the happy memories coming back to him along with the regretful ones, such as their last word exchanges. But with his mind steadied and back to the real word, he was prepared to keep leading the group and built something hopeful in that prison. Holding onto his baby girl, he looked at Carl, who stared back with a cold gaze. Rick patted his sheriff hat, making the boy avert his gaze.

"Where are the others?" Rick asked.

"In the field outside." Lee said.

"Listen, we gotta tell you something." Dale said. "It's not anything too serious. But you're no longer the leader."

Rick jerked his neck. No longer being on the front lines barking orders seemed weird to him, after being used to doing it for so long. But he would no longer have to heft that unbearable weight on his shoulders, and perhaps it was the right choice. Despite being frosty once more, he knew that losing Lori would still have its toll in the following days.

"So I'm not in charge anymore? Good."

"Good to see you still got some sense in you. You had me worried."

"Fuck you. Who's in charge, then? Lee? You put him in charge?"

"No, we formed a committee." Lee said.

"A committee?" Rick said.

"Instead of having one person making the decisions, get it? A committee." Lee said.

"Who's on this committee?" Rick said.

"You, Lee, Hershel, Glenn and Daryl." Dale said. "Funny enough, no women. If Donna were here, it wouldn't be pretty, to say the least."

"It was put to a vote, really." Lee said. "And Rick, we are only doing this because we don't want the pressure to get to you, understand?"

"I do." Rick said. "Everyone agree to the people who'll be on the committee?"

"We voted, like I said." Dale said. "But Kenny was a bit pissed he didn't get a place. Vince complained as well, saying that either he or Axel should be in it. But it was a democratic procedure, and we gotta do what the people wants."

"Also, something else you oughta know…" Lee said. "When Daryl and Maggie came from their run, this woman saved them from some walkers. Michonne. She just wanted to join us. So we figured we should take her in."

"She trustworthy?"

"Looks a bit freaky. But she helped them, and all she seems to want in return is a place to stay and some food. We took her weapon. She was walking around with pet walkers, no jaws or arms. I'm guessing it's to cover her scent. Like I did in Savannah."

Rick nodded. "I suppose we can still take people in, like we did with Tyreese. But we keep a peeled eye on her."

"Of course. So, yeah. That's all." Dale said. "We planned to get the committee together tomorrow, start figuring things out, try to-"

"Just one thing." Rick interrupted. "Before we make this committee official…I want to make sure everybody is on the same page as me."

* * *

Rick marched towards the courtyard, his friends following him from behind. He stepped into the dawn's sunlight, the rays blinding him for a second. In the grassed field, a pyre of walkers burned, and the whole group was there. He strolled down the graveled path, passing his daughter onto Hershel. The sets of eyes sprang towards him, fixating on him as if he had shame written on his face. They stood in front of Rick, silent, the fire crisping. There was a dark woman with dreadlocks there as well. He guessed she was Michonne. Hershel lugged the quiet baby in his arms. Dale, Beth, Carl and Travis stood behind him. Lee folded his arms, his frown focused on his friend, whose state of mind he wasn't sure of. Tyreese looked at Rick, as if he had a straitjacket around his torso.

Rick rubbed his temples. What a long, fucking, day. Two decapitated twins in the morning, a guy beaten to death by him, a walker break-in, armed inmates menacing him and then his wife and his baby. And those phone calls. Now, he no longer was the leader. But those harsh twenty-four hours made him realize several things. The things he was now going to say and they had to know if they were going to live. He eyed the twenty-five people standing in that field.

"I see you been keeping busy." Rick said.

Nobody responded to his remark.

"Dale and Lee tell me things have been discussed. He tells me there've been some changes made. Good. I agree with you one-hundred percent. I'm not fit to be making all the decisions around here. None of us are. This committee idea is a good one. Something we really needed. But y'all need to know how things work nowadays. How we're going to survive. How we're going to lead this group. Some of you might already understand what I'm going to say. But it's best to make sure everyone hears the same words."

"Rick, look." Tyreese said. "We all respect you, but you've really gone over the deep end."

"What makes you fucking say that?"

Tyreese gulped. "Look, man, I get it, you lost someone you cared about. But I fear you're going to become a loose cannon. Ever since I got here, you killed Thomas and Dexter, and now-"

"That's what you can't get over, Tyreese?! That's what got you thinking I've lost it?!"

Tyreese stared at him. "Rick…"

"Don't interrupt me!"

Tyreese went silent. Rick raised his tone.

"I've got something to say! And you are all going to listen to me! You owe me that much! I know how things used to be, but things have changed!"

"We can't just ignore the rules, Rick. We've got to retain our humanity."

"For fuck's sake, listen to yourself talking! You people know what we have gone through for almost a goddamned year! How many people have tried to kill us?! I can't even count them anymore. But if we had 'retained our humanity', would we be standing right here and now?! You all got blood on your hands! Lee does, Andrea does, Kenny does, Travis does!"

Andrea, Lee and Kenny narrowed their frown, but Travis lowered his head, spreading his eyelids, a drop of guilt pinching his chest.

"You do, Tyreese, as well! We all do! And I do! Probably much more than all of you, and you know why?! Because all this time, whenever the hard choice reared its head, I was the one who had to take care of it, and then you, Tyreese, brand me insane when I'm just doing what is necessary?!"

Rick took a deep breath.

"I killed a woman with my bare hands who wanted to serve us as dinner! I've killed fuckers who tried to take our lives along with everything we have! And I killed Dexter to protect us all! He was threatening to kick us out of this place, our sanctuary. He was going to force us out into the wild, how humane would that have been?! And you would all have done the same thing! I know it because you didn't object when we threw Thomas to the walkers! Ain't it?! You wanted to see him suffer! How humanitarian was that, Tyreese?!"

The crowd remained silent, knowing that they couldn't counter his argument. They turned to savagery when they watched a man get torn apart by walkers.

"Things have changed. The world has changed. And we are going to change with it, understand?! There is no rescue coming for us! This life is all we got until die! Do you think you'll ever watch television again?! Go to the bank?! Drop your kids off at school?! Ever?!"

Rick waited for a response, which was silence.

"It will never happen! You can come to grips with that sad fact, or you can sit around wishing for it to happen! You can sit around trying to follow every retarded little rule we ever invented to make us feel like we weren't animals, and you can die! We will change! We will evolve! We'll make new rules! We'll still be humane and kind and care for each other. But when the time comes—we have to be prepared to do whatever it takes to keep us safe! Whatever it takes! I used to think that we shouldn't kill the living. Pfft. That's one of the most naïve things I've believed in. Truth is…nowadays, you kill, you live. We have to adapt to this world if we're going to survive! Have I gone a little crazy?! Maybe. But so has the world! I don't care if I'm no longer the leader, I'm fine without the pressure. But I will tell you this right now. I will do whatever it takes to keep us safe. Whatever it is, I will do it. If you want to get on the same page as me, understand that. But you have to stop fooling yourselves. This is it! This is all we got! If you're gonna make things better, make this place better! We have to come to grips with that!"

"We are, Rick." Tyreese said. "That's what you don't understand. We are trying to reestablish life, as it was. That's our goal. We don't want to become savages. That's what you don't get."

"It's obvious now that I'm sane and you're the crazy one! We already are savages, Tyreese! You especially! The second we put a bullet in the head of one of those undead monsters, the moment one of us drove a hammer into one of their faces, or cut a head off! We became what we are! And that's just it! That's what this comes down to. It's been a taxing day for us all. But it's opened my eyes. There is no safe place anymore. The dead will always find their in! Any of us, no matter how strong or smart, can die at any second! If we want to delay that as much as possible, make sure we last, that's what we have to do. You people don't know what we are. We are surrounded by the dead. We're among them. And when we finally give up we become them! We're living on borrowed time! Every minute of our life is a minute we steal from them!"

Rick beamed his finger towards the hordes piling up beyond the fences, their jaws pressed against the steel and incessantly clicking, gazes devoid of life staring at the distant survivors. For a second, he got caught in a trance, looking at them. They thought that the walkers were the zombies, shuffling everywhere with no purpose in mind. But they were wrong.

"You see them out there! You know that when we die we become them! You think we hide behind walls to protect us from the walking dead! Don't you get it?!"

Every single one of them had a bulging stare locked on Rick, unknown to them that his final sentence would forever change who they were.

"We are the walking dead!"

The words sunk into the group just like the silence that followed. The zombies weren't the walking dead. Rick, Andrea, Carol, Sophia, Ben, Kenny, Glenn, Maggie, Daryl, Billy, Omid, Christa, Molly, Tyreese, Travis, Beth, Chuck, Lilly, Vince, Michonne, Lee, Clementine, Carl, Dale, Hershel and Axel were the walking dead. Rick seemed to be out of control. But no. He was the most lucid one of them all. And he was right. The walkers are mindless zombies, but they always win. But they, the humans, they were the walking dead. Because they just kept on keeping on, despite their lives being on a timer that would reach zero at any time. Lee stared at his friend, his lip slightly drooped and his eyelids broadened. Rick hunkered his shoulders, his gaze falling to the ground, his muscles sore from fatigue. The flames crisped. The words reverberated among the group, their gazes gravitating around the sheriff. Rick spoke only one more time, and this time his voice was a whisper.

"We are the walking dead."


	64. Them

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 64 – THEM**

* * *

** Guest: "Is Billy dead or alive? You keep saying he died but you keep giving him dialogue or making him interact with other survivors."**

** Answer: *insert You Dense Motherfucker meme*. It's his GHOOOST! Alright, just kidding, let's get serious here. In case you have not noticed, there are two characters named Billy – one of the twins, Billy and Ben, and Billy Greene, who is Hershel's child. The twins were decapitated in chapter 61, but Billy Greene still lives on. Do you really think I'd kill a character and have his ghost keep on living on, with no extraordinary reaction from the others? xD**

** Guest: "You going to be bringing in the Cabin group? Or maybe Carver replacing that Hospital arc?"**

** Answer: Why do you people ask me these questions? You know damn well I'm not going to spoil the story xD **

** Watchmen1985: "could you keep beth around a lot more and maybe have her reach Alexandria […] could you have maggie and her spend a lot more time together […] could you give him (Shumpert) more screen time in your story […] could you add that native American family from the michonne dlc john Fairbanks used to be a lawyer […] so he could tell if people are lying or not […] alex could have a crush on clementine…"**

** Answer: Okay, so considering the considerable length of your suggestions, I shortened them and changed your words slightly to get the message across immediately. As always, some of these suggestions are great while others are not so good, such as giving Shumpert more screen time. Like I have said many times before, the cast is easy to become too big, so I have to be very careful. I always keep the number as short as possible, and only insert characters that are important. So I won't be losing time and writing space with a redshirt like Shumpert.**

* * *

"We are the walking dead."

The fire kept crisping, silence reigning over them. His declaration was like an explosion and the shock wave percussed them, erasing the words from their tongues. They wanted to counter his statement, but deep down, it made sense. Lee glared at his friend, holding Clementine's hand as she stared at the sheriff with enlarged eyes. He should have kept that shit to himself instead of saying that he, along with his daughter, were just like the zombies. Chuck folded his arms, a blank in his visage. _He's right. You're either alive or you're not. _Sophia hid behind Carol's legs. Lilly remained nonchalant, not caring about whatever philosophy he yammered about. Hershel cradled the baby and lowered his head, a gesture of shameful agreeing. Beth and Travis frowned. Michonne and Vince put a hand on their hip, wondering what the hell kind of declaration that was.

But for one of them, his words felt wrong and pissed him off. Daryl stiffened his posture, rolling his fists in. He refused to believe in that. He wasn't an empty shell spreading death through its bites. His role in this world wasn't to just march an inevitable path towards his demise. He was a survivor. And what he said was an insult to him. He marched forward. Rick elevated his head, his fatigued gaze lifting towards him.

"We ain't them."

More eyes swiveled in his direction. Rick narrowed his eyebrows. Daryl tried to interpret what emotion flashed through his eyes. Perhaps defiance, perhaps incredulity, perhaps disagreement. Or perhaps nothing. Perhaps he just heard his words, took them in, and didn't bother to argue any further. Daryl brushed past him, both of them staring at each other in a deadlock. He shook his head continually as if he tried to dissolve Rick's words from his mind.

"We ain't them."

* * *

"Daryl? Daryl?"

Daryl traveled back to reality. He stood atop the frontal watchtower, his fists curled around the railing. His head faced downwards, staring at the walkers glued to the fence and the front gate. The moons situated in their eye sockets stared up at him, layers of decaying epidermis releasing a powerful stench. Their inked fingernails scratched at the steel fence, the noise resembling jingling bells. They were scattered around the fence, and based on a rapid headcount, he guessed there were perhaps over thirty of them. His mind went back to what Rick said when he got caught in a hypnosis, observing that herd. _We are the walking dead. We ain't them. _No, they were not. They were fighting and suffering for their safety, for their lives. They felt the pain, and the walkers caused it. The walkers didn't suffer. They didn't feel a damned thing.

He turned his head to Lilly. She was bent against the railing at half a right angle, the stock of her rifle kissing her shoulder while the barrel was set against the rails. Two shell casings laid on the floor, and beyond the prison, two distant walkers were stretched out on the dirt side by side, both of their heads drilled by bullets, squishes of blood turning the grass crimson. She stared at him, while he looked at her two kills.

"Good shot. As always."

"I can't let my aim get rusty. What were you so caught up in?"

"Nothing. What Rick said. 'Bout us being like the walkers."

Lilly snorted, her head twirling back to the aiming notch of her rifle.

"Oh. That silly digression."

"You really think we like 'em? Roamin' around like puppets?"

"I don't know. I don't care about what we are."

Her index finger hammered another bullet out of the rifle, the implosion of the gunshot rattling their cores. From the ten meter distance, the solitary walker near the treeline collapsed on the ground, a red dot flashing in its temple. Three bullets, three walkers so far. Lilly straightened and slung her rifle on her back, while Daryl didn't shift his position.

"Better stop here. Don't want to bring more walkers here, not after those alarms."

"It's been three days, but those things keep dragging themselves here." Daryl said. "I think the fence's a little bent."

Lilly peeped down.

"Really? I can't tell a difference."

"It's just a little, though." Daryl turned to her. "You okay?"

Lilly sighed, her shoulders jostling up and down while her eyes faced the horizon.

"Not sure what okay means anymore." She glanced at his crossbow. "Where'd you get that thing, anyways?"

"Got it before all this. Better for hunting. Don't scare off the game like a gun. And nowadays, it don't bring the dead towards you. Had it for years."

Lilly nodded. With nothing better to do, the duo stared at the landscape unraveling in front of them. A forest ridden of vibrant hues, the leaves losing their lime colors, the moans of the dead strumming rotten vocal cords. Daryl glanced around the main yard. Travis and Ben strolled in the corridor between the outer and inner fences, for some damned reason. In the courtyard, Hershel and his son Billy stood side by side, just as Axel walked up to them.

* * *

Travis and Ben stomped the gravel with slow steps, the pebbles crunching at each placed foot. Just a late afternoon stroll. Daryl and Lilly were on the nearby watchtower, picking off a few lurkers. Despite having the fence protecting them, they didn't dare to take their eyes off the zombies clawing at it. If they did, they would feel a gentle stab on the back of their neck, a desperate urge to turn their eyes back to the threat. They kept a safe distance of a meter, due to some of the fingers that fit through the gaps. The clacking of their teeth, similar to castanets, bristled their hairs. Their growls drummed their ears like annoying, uncoordinated music. The proximity made the putrid steam emanating from their throats reach their nostrils.

Ben sometimes fell in disbelief that monsters like them could exist, albeit it was almost a year since the walkers succeeded their coup d'état over the world. Travis accepted their presence at that point, but they still made his spine turn cold at times. Ben envied the ability of his friend to adapt to the survival measures they had to take, but he didn't tell him that. Otherwise, he would create some fake modesty and say that it was thanks to his dad, who was Special Forces.

"The smell…" Ben said, covering his nose.

"Please, don't throw up like you always do." Travis said, his hands in his pockets.

"I've gotten used to it. Why are we out here?"

"I dunno." Travis said, kicking the gravel. "Just thought being around them would help. Help getting used to their smell. Their noise. Their presence."

"Yeah. I guess it does make sense. I thought you were fearless to these things."

"You kidding me? They creep the hell out of me. I just try not to pussy out."

The two teens stared at the pairs of hollowed eyeballs staring at them, wondering if behind them, within their half-dead brains, there was any spark of life looking back at them.

* * *

Axel stood next to Hershel and Billy, who sat in lawn chairs by the courtyard fence. The old man must have been working out his leg, developing his equilibrium, with Billy chaperoning him just in case. Their stares seemed to have fixated on the walkers cluttering behind the fence, staring back at them like they did. It was like the walkers gazed inside the prison as if it were an aquarium full of sharks, their heads neared to the glass as much as possible to get a good look. But considering the danger the undead presented, perhaps it was the other way around and the walkers were the sharks, the prison being an aquarium that wasn't assured to be unbreakable.

"You ever think about them? Watching you like they do, all day." Axel said.

Hershel shook his head. Rick blew away his veil of lies back on the farm, when he was naïve enough to lock walkers in the barn. Those weren't sick people, just corpses with no life. Just involuntary walking and jaw spasms driven by cannibalistic instinct. Nothing more. Ever since, he didn't put much more thought into them. The remark made his expression tense.

"I try not to think about them at all." Hershel said.

"Not me. I think about them all the time. Who they were, what they did before they died, all kinds of stuff. I think about what jobs they had. Or if they had any family, and if so, where they went or what happened to them. Are any of them family members who have stuck together? Any of them out there know each other before they died? I mean, those things used all to be people. Every single one of them had lives. You follow me?"

"Like I said, I don't like thinking about them."

"You don't wonder about that?" Axel asked, rubbing his chin. "What kind of people they were before they died and decided to try and eat us? I bet most of them were good people, like you or me. Or well, you. I was no boy scout."

"You think any of them were astronauts or secret agents or shit like that? That'd be pretty cool." Billy snickered.

Hershel sprang towards Billy, his tone lowering to a hiss. "Language."

"Yeah, like that." Axel said. "I wonder what it felt like when they died. I wonder what it was like when they started turning into one of them. To come back. I wonder if it hurts. I bet it hurts real bad. That's why they moan so much. You gotta ask yourself these questions. I mean, odds are we'll be like that before long."

Hershel and Billy remained inert while Axel caressed his handlebar moustache and his bushy beard.

"Odds are."

* * *

Rick whistled at the sight in front of him. The armory was a claustrophobic cubicle, but the contents were impressive. Lee, Dale, Glenn, Maggie, Tyreese and Kenny stood behind him, the last two beaming battery-fueled torches into the room as if they were small-sized lighthouses, splashing their deformed shadows on the walls. Shelves were stocked with rows of assault rifles, bolt-action and automatic, shotguns, pistols, sniper rifles, full riot gear and ammo boxes, all of it stocked with symmetrical perfection. There was only a shotgun and two rifles missing, along with a glass emergency case that had been shattered and was missing the fire axe. Rick tried the light switch. Nothing.

"Geez, it's dark as fuck in here." Rick said.

"There are no windows, unfortunately." Glenn said. "The warden's office is just around the corner, and by the way, there's a couch there that's way more comfortable than any of the beds we've slept in."

"Way more comfortable." Maggie said.

Glenn and Maggie giggled as they glanced at each other with a telepathic complicity. Dale rolled his eyes.

"Thanks, I don't even want to stand next to that couch now."

"It'll be nice if we can get the generator running. That'll make things much better here, even if we only run it a few hours a day." Lee said.

"Vince is in the generator room, was getting familiarized with the machines, trying to piece together how it works." Kenny said.

"Nice." Rick said. "Man, it'll be good to listen to some music. Man, it's been so long since I've heard anything. And y'know, I didn't even realize it until now."

"C'mon, now, let's not get dreamy." Kenny smiled.

"Some jazz tunes and a cup of bourbon." Lee said, his eyes out of focus as if he imagined the scene in front of him.

"Seems like something from another world nowadays." Kenny simpered, flashing his light over the automatic, thirty-clip M4's. "Man, can't wait to test out some of these babies. With this block clear, we'll have plenty of space. There's also a library around here. We get the generator running and our hands on a DVD, we might just be watching a movie soon."

"Now that's dreaming." Lee said.

"Dexter and Andrew must've gotten up here in a hurry." Rick said, inspecting the shotguns. "Mostly in the dark. Otherwise I don't see how he could have gotten inside here and out like he did, without getting attacked by walkers."

"They must have just come in here in the dark, stumbling around to get anything useful." Tyreese said. "Had they gotten their hands on these suits, they'd have been much more trouble. Especially if these helmets are bulletproof."

Rick glared at him.

"Yeah. Right."

"We should go on a trip to this prison's parking lot today." Lee said. "Siphon gas for the generators. Go once the weather and the walkers clear up a bit."

"Seems like a plan."

"It looks like the prison is clear. Let's get out of here." Dale said.

"Where's Chuck though?" Lee said. "I thought we was meant to meet us to check out the weapons."

The others shrugged in unison. Lee slid his hand through his chin.

"I oughta go look for him."

* * *

"No, I like it here, really. The people are nice. There are trust issues, having to be locked in my cell at night, not having my weapons, but it's understandable. It makes sense. Everyone has been nice to me, there's a certain distance to be sure, but as I said, it's justified. Some have warmed up to me more than others, but this isn't a popularity contest. I don't care if they like me. And if the question is 'can you survive here?', the answer is most definitely yes. I even—"

"Uh, Michonne?"

Michonne sprang her head towards the entrance. Andrea stood at the doorposts of her cell, with a curved eyebrow. The blonde woman flicked her eyes through her quarters. She sat on her bed, facing the opposite blank wall. Nobody in sight. But as she sauntered down the walkway, she heard her speaking. Michonne stared at her, with narrowed eyelids. Andrea's gut feeling told her she wasn't wrong. The words had to come from her. It stopped the moment she announced herself.

"Yeah? Andrea, right? What do you want?"

"Who exactly are you talking to? There's nobody there."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Michonne rapidly spat, drawing her eyelids even closer. "I wasn't talking to anyone."

Andrea grunted and posed her hands on her hips, marching into her cell.

"I heard you talking. I heard you talking to someone! I couldn't make out what you were saying, but I definitely heard talking."

"I don't know what you heard, but it wasn't me and it wasn't coming from this room."

Andrea glared at her. She was lying, her extreme calm betraying her. But she deemed it was best not to insist, especially because she already knew her answer. She stepped out of the cell, glancing past her shoulder until Michonne was out of sight. Michonne faced the wall, seeing her leave through the corner of her eye. Her footsteps resounded in the walkway.

"Bitch."

* * *

Lee entered one of the restrooms near the cellblock. As he walked back to the sleeping residences, he heard a whimper come from the room. _Maybe it's Chuck._ The toilets emanated a powerful stink, remnants of urine and feces that most likely developed their own ecosystem of fungus. He walked towards the last cubicle, the only one with the door opened. He peeked inside. Chuck slumped on the toilet seat, his tanned eyelids turned rose from tears. A half-empty whiskey bottle was sewn in one of his fingerless gloved hands. Lee stood there, his face frozen, his lips slightly agape. He never saw the man so distressed, and most importantly he didn't know for what reason he was drinking alone in a filthy bathroom.

"Man, what the hell?" Lee said.

Chuck flicked his bloodshot eyes towards him, his voice blunt like a brick.

"Oh. Yo."

Lee kneeled at his height.

"What's wrong? And where'd you find that?"

"Drinkers like me always find booze. Somewhere, somehow."

"Why are you like this?"

"I told ya, Lee. I told ya. On that train…seeing more kids die…it would do me in…and it did…I hauled out their bodies, y'know. The woman was one thing…but those twins…I could barely pull myself to grab their heads. With those empty gazes…possessed by the devil's fiends…"

Chuck sniffled, toying with the bottle in his hands, then took a long chug. Lee lowered his head, his lips twisting and the angle on his eyebrows accentuating upwards.

"The twins…they shouldn't have died like they did." Lee said. "But you can't be like this. Not in this filthy place. And whatever may come, I won't let anything happen to Clementine. Rick won't either, to Carl. Or Carol, to Sophia."

"Ain't nothing sure anymore. Clementine, Carl, Sophia…they seem well for now. But nothin' ain't stopping the devil from weavin' its path."

"I'd die before she gets hurt in any way."

"I know you would…I know…but sometimes, things ain't in our hands to control."

"Let's get back. C'mon."

Lee rose to his feet, disheartened to see his wise friend unrewarded to such a grizzly state of mind. Chuck took his hand, but his grip was soft from the alcohol. Lee hoisted him up. Chuck's legs wobbled. Lee wrapped his arm around his neck, towing him towards the exit. The inebriation steered his footing away from proper path. But despite his every muscle being numb, the tendons of his right hand were lucid and welded to the bottle, whose liquid swayed back and forth with a gentle splash like the waves in a maroon, alcoholic ocean.

"Get too close to the sun…your wings will singe…"

Lee shook his head. He was rambling. Lee crutched his limp into the cellblock. Once they were inside it, Andrea cannoned past him with annoyance in her eyes. Lee stopped, twirling towards her.

"Something wrong?"

Andrea glanced at Michonne's cell.

"Let's just say that our new arrival has some imaginary friends she's secretive about."

Andrea walked out of the block. Lee frowned, wondering what the vague, indirect remark meant. He shepherded his drunken friend to his cell, laying him on his bed. Chuck immediately closed his eyes, clutching his whiskey bottle like a kid holds a teddy bear at night. Within half a minute, he was snoring audibly. Lee reached for his bottle. The moment his fingertips touched the glass, Chuck's eyes sprang open, almost like a reanimated walker, his grip tight on the bottle.

"Leave it with me." Chuck said.

Lee nodded, amazed at how the man had a superpower when it came to booze. He sat at the end of his bed, looking at the slumbering man, watching over him like he once did over him and Clementine. He chuckled, remembering the affinity the man had with alcohol. They shared a drink back on the train, and when they were in the attic after the mansion was overrun, he thought how comical it was he warped to Kenny the moment he popped the lid off a bottle of bubbly. Like a moth drawn to flames, he thought at the time. A sad smile bent his lips, as he imagined that the alcohol had been his sole company for the years he spent alone. A shred of humor found in the depressing, overstretched story that his life must have been in the past.

Outside, he heard the shriek of metal being struck against metal. Molly sharpening her blade. Beth cradled the baby atop the perch, while Carol made a crib for her.

Carol looked at the younger girl, whilst folding a towel. Beth held the newborn close to her chest, as if she nurtured her with her beating heart, measuring every motion as if she was handling porcelain. The tenderness glowed in her eyes and her smile. Feminine and maternal instincts, evolved from animal behaviors of a mother protecting her cubs. She reminded her of herself when she was younger, that same latent wish of taking care of younger kin surfacing whenever she was around her neighbors' kids.

"You've got a knack for that." Carol said.

"Just trying to do my part." Beth said.

"Sophia used to wake the neighbors. Three AM. Like clockwork. Ed stayed at a friend's most nights 'til she calmed down."

"I always wanted a child." Beth chuckled. "She made it because of Daryl. He couldn't stand to lose anyone else."

"Sounds like him. He's got a code. The world needs men like him. It was always his brother Merle who brought him down. A real jerk. But men like Merle, they get into your head. Make you feel like you deserve the abuse."

"Even for Daryl?"

Carol stared at the wall for a split second, a trip to the past visible in her eyes.

"I'm hardly the woman I was a year ago, but if Ed walked through that door right now, breathing and told me to go with him, I'd like to think I'd tell him to go to hell."

"You would."

Carol hesitated to respond, then just shrugged.

"It doesn't matter."

The perch stairs echoed with footsteps. Kenny arrived at the platform, dismay weighing down his face. He braked, laying sight on the two women and the baby. His eyes spread wide open, not able to take them off the little girl.

"Oh. Y'all setting up the little one?"

The two women nodded.

"Wanna hold her?" Beth asked.

Kenny's eyes bulged like inflated balloons. The matter struck a weak point. He spent the last month suppressing his paternal warmth, but now with the baby arriving, it seemed like his past was back to haunt him. He knew it the moment Maggie and Carl stumbled into the courtyard with the dirtied newborn. It reminded him too much. But he was too paralyzed to say no to her request. Beth sauntered towards him, taking his silence as an affirmative answer. She slowly passed him the baby. Carol folded her arms. Kenny held the baby, locking his arms in place, fearing to do something wrong. He careened her a bit, her enlarged eyes flicking over his rugged face.

Then, she giggled at him.

A tsunami of emotions inside him demolished his brick walls of bitterness, anger and frustration. They struck him all at once, daggering his heart and menacing to knock him off his feet. Now there was just pain and sorrow, and it was coming out at the same time. He tried every day to repress it, like an overstuffed suitcase one stomps so it will shut. He stomped down the suitcase of emotions every day, keeping on keeping on, but now it burst like a geyser. Memories jetted into his mind – a sickeningly clean hospital, the stench of serum pairing in the air, his wife laying on a bed surrounded by medical staff, him cradling his little boy and looking into his eyes, a promise forming in his mind. _I will protect this boy. No matter what. Cross my heart and hope to die._ Kenny sniffled, a tear running down his eye, his voice forming in a high-pitched whimper.

"She's a sweetheart."

The sweet side of the hardened man made Carol and Beth smile with an exhale.

"You're a sweetie, ain't ya, Ducky?"

Carol and Beth lost their smile and a worried frown took its place. Carol finished up with the crib, putting a towel inside a cardbox. Daryl's name idea had stuck around. Little Ass-Kicker was written on the side with a dark pen, with Beth's flowery handwriting where little hearts replaced the dots on the I's.

"We oughta get her to sleep." Beth said.

She stretched her arms towards the man, but his voice halted her.

"I'll—I'll tuck him in."

Beth stepped aside. Kenny approached the makeshift crib and set the baby inside, molding the towel to her contours. He wiped his nose, his eyes glinting from the tears that were now under control.

"He fits perfect."

Carol and Beth scratched their heads, exchanging a concerned glance. Lee heard the conversation while overseeing a sleeping Chuck, feeling preoccupied as well. Michonne sat in her bed, ignoring the others outside, before getting up and storming out of her cell.

* * *

The cafeteria was vacant, aside from five people inside. Carl twiddled his thumbs in front of his untouched bowl of stale cereal, sitting across Sophia and Clementine. Christa and Omid sat side by side a few tables away, keeping a passive eye on them. Carl had a couple of sentences itching him on the back of his mind to be said, but he didn't find the courage to say them, as it wasn't something easy to convey.

"Hey, Sophia?"

The girl stopped eating, looking towards the boy.

"I thought about what you said, and…I think I want to be your boyfriend."

Sophia gasped, her eyes sparking up like festive lightning.

"Really?! Cool!"

The two kids interlaced their hands over the table surface, smiling as they stared at each other with blissful, ignorant and made-up ideas of what love was. Clementine snorted, hanging a spoonful of cereal below her chin, her voice mocking yet neutral.

"Get a room, you two."

Omid yawned, rubbing his eyes. Now he knew why Rick was like Hitler in the morning. Or well, was, when Lori was alive. At each dawn, he woke up to his girlfriend untangling out of the bed sheets, trampling him over in a mad dash towards the restrooms like a loose pack of sprinting horses, because he slept on the outer side of the bed. Maybe it was time to change that. Maybe it was time to sleep in a different bed. He poked the tasteless, milk-less cereal with his spoon, his eyelids weighing a ton.

"Seems like you won't let me sleep in for the next few months." Omid grumbled.

"Sorry, but sickness is starting to kick in." Christa whispered, as if she didn't want the kids to listen.

Omid withdrew his head, glancing at her stomach beneath the table. A slight bump, that would go under the radar unless someone started paying too much attention.

"Geez. That belly is starting to get noticeable." Omid smirked. "You're fat."

"Oh, shut up."

"When do you think we should tell everyone?"

"Once we get this place running like a real community."

"Hopefully that's real soon. Can you imagine our kid growing up in a prison? I bet he'll be a real badass. He'll have prison tats, wear a little baby prison jumpsuit, smuggling baby powder with Little Ass-Kicker…"

"Talking about the baby…I wonder how Rick's holding up."

Omid eased his smile.

"Yeah. The whole thing's fucked up. He seems to be okay for now…but I'm sure it still torments him." Omid sighed, wanting to lighten up the conversation. "Remember that time in Barstow?"

"Yeah, Las Vegas."

The couple exchanged a dirty look, mutual understanding connecting their eyes.

"You know, the kids could watch out for themselves for ten minutes." Omid leaned closer to her. "We could slip out to the kitchen back there."

Christa rolled her eyes. "You're being silly."

"C'mon, you're already pregnant. What's the risk?"

"Okay, fine." Christa chuckled. "Not with the kids though. But we can slip out to the shower rooms after we're done watching them."

"That's the Christa I adore."

* * *

Tyreese stared into the floorboards, as if trying to spot a foreign language written in the splinters. The edge of his feet touched the ground, his body stretched out at almost the same angle as the basketball field, his arms bracing him off the floor. He bent his elbows, nearing the ground until his nose touched it, repeating the drill at a fast pace. _Forty-four. Forty-five. Forty-six. _His naked torso and forehead were soaked with reflective sweat. He grunted at each arm pump, sucking in then venting out a heavy breath at each time. _Forty-seven. Forty-eight. Forty-nine._

_ Fifty._

He released a fiery breath, rising to his feet. His biceps were sore and swollen, after his morning sets were completed. He wiped his forehead, tired but rejuvenated after the liberation of accumulated adrenaline and energy. He sipped from a plastic water container. Working out was a routine before he got injured in football, but it felt weird in the end of the world. The only work out available in the wild was fighting the walkers and running away from them, and the walkers were the ones who determined how long and intense the work out was, like a lanista commandeering his gladiators, and they couldn't reach for some quick hydration like he just did. Plus, they didn't do it because they wanted to. Hell, if they could settle behind walls, and spend their days thinking about something else than how to battle the living dead, then maybe they were making a change. They weren't just surviving. They were living. _So, no, Rick. We are not the walking dead._

Michonne appeared at the door, steam fogging her mind, and the tension in her muscles begging to be freed. She forced a smile, seeing the heavy-built athlete half-naked in front of her.

"Someone said there'd be weights here." Michonne said. "I wanted to do some lifting."

Tyreese beamed his finger towards an alcove in the gymnasium.

"Yeah, right back there. Can't miss it." Tyreese said.

Michonne walked toward a weight bench. Tyreese stared at her for a while, then followed her. She took off her jacket, revealing rather thick arms. Logical, she must have obtained those biceps from her practice with the katana, allowing her to easily sever spinal bones and muscle tissue. She stretched out on the bench, while he sat at its edge.

"So, you liking it here so far?" Tyreese asked.

"Huh?" Michonne blurted out, before shifting her attention to him. "I'm out of the rain. I've got more people to talk to, and I haven't had to decapitate a walking person in three days. I like it here, yeah."

"I guess there's not much to dislike here, at least not this past few days. The week before that though…"

"Wait-" Michonne said, her perception of the man changing. "I do recognize you. You played for a season for the Falcons, didn't you? Was that in ninety-nine? Two-thousand?"

Tyreese recoiled his head, his eyes lighting up, his tone raising with the pleasant surprise.

"Oh God, yeah! I did! Ninety-eight, though. You follow football, huh?"

"I follow the Falcons. They're my second passion, after weightlifting."

"I can see that."

"You weren't very good if I'm remembering you right."

"That's one way to put it."

* * *

The sun started to breach the clouds, so the run to siphon gas from the parking lot was initiated. Lee, Rick, Glenn and Maggie stood by the gate, strapping on bulletproof vests, helmets and arm and leg pads. Tyreese and Axel grasped the gate ligaments, ready to slide it open and shut as quickly as possible. Carl stood by his father, and when Rick was done equipping himself, he led him out of earshot with a hand on his back. He stared down at him, and the little sheriff stared back up. Rick phrased his words in his mind. He had barely spoken to the boy about what happened, and when he realized it, it struck him with tremendous guilt. His wife was gone, and he had to be there for his boy. Lori used to look after him while he handled everything else, but now, all he had was him.

"What you did for mom—"

"I had to."

Carl's voice came out firm, but not rid of emotion.

"I—I know. I know. And I'm sorry. No one should have to go through that."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Not too long for you to notice. Take care of your sister."

Carl nodded.

"Daryl's been calling her Ass-Kicker."

"Ass-Kicker?" Rick chuckled. "Has he now?"

"I've been thinking, what should we really call her?"

Rick jerked his neck. "Well, what do you think?"

"Remember my third grade teacher, Ms. Mueller?"

"Of course."

"Her first name was Judith. Do you think that's a good name?"

"I think that's—that's a fine name. Judith it is."

Rick patted his sheriff hat. Carl had the appearance of a boy, but it was obvious he was now a man. He must have been rearing his tenth birthday. He was tall and slender, but a bulky Beretta was sheathed inside his holster strapped to his thin waist, making it seem larger and heavy as a ton. Carl sketched a weak smile, which vanished in a second. It was like his smile was sick, and slowly recovering from the illness. Being able to talk to his father about mom and trivial things such as the baby's name helped him. He was there for him, finally.

Daryl and Lilly led the zombies towards the left side of the fence, while Travis and Ben did the same towards the right side. Rick joined his squad, all of them strapping their pistols, melee weapons, and the nightsticks that came with the suits. Rick glanced towards the forest. Contrasting off the darkened figures of the walkers and the trees, there was a woman there, her back turned towards him, wearing a white dress while her raven hair flew in the wind. Rick turned his eyes away, but then they sprang back around towards the woman. _Lori? _She was still there, standing with angelic grace.

Lee looked at his friend. His eyes were fixated on something. He followed his gaze, but just saw a void of trees and foliage. But it was like he was seeing something precise in that specific spot.

"Rick, you okay?"

Rick looked at his friend. He blinked several times, then looked back to the forest. She disappeared. _Don't start seeing things. _If he couldn't trust his eyes, then he couldn't trust himself. He shook his head, exiling the mirages from his mind.

"I'm good. I'm good."

Lee nodded, conjecturing that he might have seen a glimpse of days gone bye, but deemed best to drop the subject.

"Haven't seen Christa or Omid this morning, now that I think about it." Maggie said.

Axel giggled with a dark smile.

"He's probably off somewhere with his skinny mocha gal of his. Can hardly blame him myself, you follow me?"

The walkers had dispersed from the gate, chasing after the two duos of distractors. Tyreese and Axel wrenched the gate to the side.

"Now or never, people." Tyreese said.

Maggie and Glenn picked up their empty jerrycans. Glenn lowered his visor, his eyesight becoming slightly darker through the unbreakable visor. Rick and Lee brandished their respective axe and machete, and led the squad into the exterior in a hurried jog. Tyreese and Axel slid the gate shut after their passage.

Rick, Lee, Maggie and Glenn jogged around the fence, their coordinated footsteps rustling the grass, and the bulletproof attire giving them the appearance of a specialized law-enforcement unit. A few divergent walkers roamed about here and there. Lee swung his axe, planting it into the temple of a zombie. He ran past the collapsing corpse before it hit the ground. His swing was slower and less powerful. That was the immediate flaw of the suits. They didn't restrain their movements and were flexible, but added quite a few pounds to their body weight. Until they got used to it, they would have to calculate their attacks well.

Rick waved his arm as they encircled the prison.

"C'mon, this way! Let's do this as fast as we can!"

Lee looked at Glenn, his face hidden beyond the reflective visor.

"You don't need the visor down, you know? Nobody's out here throwing things at us, it's unnecessary."

"If we don't really need the visors, then we don't really need the helmets, do we? And these boots are probably slowing us down too. I thought we were just testing this stuff out, seeing if it's going to be useful. We're not going to have a clear line of sight on the parking lot and I for one don't feel like taking risks."

"You're right. I just don't think you need your vision obstructed by the thing. I know it's cool and all and you want the full effect and all, I'm just saying."

Glenn smirked.

"I'm going for the full effect, you're right. So far, I'm loving this thing. I would have killed to have one of these suits back in Atlanta when we got the guns. Right, Rick?"

"You said it." Rick said. "This stuff oughta be stab-proof, so it oughta be bite-proof."

"Hey, heads up!" Maggie said, aiming her finger towards a fat zombie. "We're not alone."

Rick tiptoed towards the blobby zombie, then ruptured its skull with a swift axe blow, blood squishing onto his left shoulder pad. They proceeded, and when they reached the rear of the prison, the parking lot unfolded in front of them. The parking spots weren't abundant with vehicles, as they counted only around twenty vehicles, a variety of SUV's, pickup trucks and station wagons of different brands, most of them grimed by dust carried by the wind. Individual walkers were scattered through the area, slithering between the cars.

"Okay, here we are. Pick one and let's get to work." Rick said.

Glenn squatted near the gasoline tank of a sedan. Rick, Lee and Maggie formed a circle around him, their fingers tapping against the handgrips of their weapons.

"We'll keep our eyes out for any that get close." Lee said.

"Man, most of these cars are beat all to shit." Rick said. "Lot of people left here in a hurry."

"Don't stop 'em from being full of gas." Lee said.

Glenn cracked open the tank, and drove a tube into it. He sucked the air out. The sour, fumed taste of gasoline assaulted his tongue and he jolted his head around, spitting the few drops of the liquid to the concrete while the gas flowed through the tube. He put it inside a jerrycan, filling it up.

"Hey, you got some on the first try!" Rick said.

The parking lot remained silent, aside from a few dissonant moans. But then, there was another noise. The whirring of something moving really fast, slicing through the air. Like a blade swooping the air and forcing the air out of its path, but intensified. A curious grunt exited their lips as they quirked their eyebrows. That noise was distant, but they recognized it. They couldn't put their finger on what it was at first, since they felt it had been a long time since they heard it. But they had heard it before. The sound came from above. They looked to the sky. Disbelief ripped the eyelids from their orbits and suspended their jaws.

A helicopter glided through the sky, its upper and rear rotor blades cleaving the wind in circles with mechanical roars. Smiles plastered onto their faces, a beacon of civilization flashing in front of them right when they considered it long gone.

"Oh my God. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?! I'm seeing things, aren't I?" Glenn said.

"Holy shit. It's a helicopter." Lee said.

"Are they military? I mean, is that a military helicopter?" Maggie said.

"I don't think so. It could be police, it could be news, it doesn't look military." Rick said.

"It's not coming this way." Lee said. "We need to do something to get its attention. We need to start a fire, a big one, and fast!"

"What can we do?" Maggie said. "Burn one of these cars? We could use that gas, that'd get their attention-"

"Rick, look out!" Glenn said.

Rick sprang around. A walker with a jacket reaching its knees lunged at him. Its fingernails sunk into his wrist, protected by the padding and armor. Rick hopped back and Glenn swung his nightstick, striking its face and making the creature recoil. Rick gripped his axe and drove it into the zombie's cheekbone. The walker withered on the floor. Rick leaned on his knees, panting.

"You okay?!" Lee said.

Rick nodded.

"The suits, huh?" Glenn said.

"Yeah, not bad." Rick said.

"Lesson of the day, never take our eyes off them." Lee said. "Even if a chopper-"

"Uh, guys…" Maggie said.

Rick, Lee and Glenn looked up to the sky again. The helicopter was flying downwards in a diagonal trajectory, smoke spiraling out of its rear blades.

"Oh, shit. Is it landing?" Glenn said.

"No, I think it's crashing!" Lee said.

"Watch where it goes down!" Rick said. "I'm going to get Daryl's motorcycle, it can't be more than one or two miles away, we can ride that over to where it crashes! We need to know who these people are!"

"Just go tell them where we're going while I get one of these cars started." Glenn said. "If there are any survivors we can't bring them back on the motorcycle."

"Yeah, good thinking." Rick said.

The helicopter neared the earth at a preoccupying speed, until it disappeared within the treeline. The crash was silent and invisible, and the ashen smoke that ascended to the sky in the horizon was the sole indication of it happening. Glenn opened the driver's door of a pickup truck, Maggie watching his back, while Lee and Rick sprinted back to the front of the prison. Their sprint was hastened by the anticipation in their hearts, beseeching answers regarding that helicopter. After two minutes, the front gate came into view once again, with Tyreese standing guard behind it. Rick and Lee dodged a few walkers, while he opened the gate and they rushed inside.

"What are you doing?! What happened?! Are Glenn and Maggie okay?!" Tyreese said.

"You didn't see it?!" Lee said.

"See what?"

"The helicopter! It was flying by in the distance, then it crashed. We're gonna check it out and we should be able to get there and back before dark. We just wanted to let you know so you can tell Clem and the others."

"A helicopter? No shit?" Tyreese snickered, glancing towards the sky. "Was it military?"

"Don't think so. I can't believe you didn't see it." Rick said.

"I saw it. Let's go."

Michonne marched towards them, her cloak dangling off her back and her katana holstered on her waist. Rick locked his glare on her sword.

"How'd you-?"

"Did you think I wouldn't find it? Please. I've had this sword for three days. You can trust me."

"I'm pretty sure that proves otherwise."

"Let's deal with that later. We need to go. I survived out there on my own, you need me with you. And I could use the exercise."

"We're not going to run there." Lee said.

An engine twittered near them. Their heads turned towards the noise. Glenn's head was sticking out of the driver's window of a pickup truck, along with his left arm leaning out of the windowsill and a smile on his lips. Maggie sat in the passenger's seat.

"You want me to come?" Tyreese asked.

"No, just tell the others what's going on!" Rick said. "Keep them safe. We'll be back tonight, and we might have guests."

Lee, Rick and Michonne hurtled to the back seats. Glenn rerouted the truck towards the road, and speeded off while Tyreese closed the gate.

* * *

The pickup truck raced down the concrete road that deviated into a side road leading into the depths of the forest. Involuntary theories popped into their mind regarding the helicopter, their brains trying to kill time until they reached it. Rick opened his mouth, guessing that dialogue would make their road-trip feel shorter.

"How'd you get this thing started?" Rick asked. "The keys weren't left in it, right?"

"You didn't really think I was just a pizza delivery boy, did you?" Glenn simpered.

"You mean-?"

"I stole a few cars in my day, yeah." Glenn deadpanned, eyes focused on the road. "It was never something I enjoyed. Well, that's a lie. It was kinda fun. But I never wanted to do it. I learned how to do it in highschool for fun, to mess with guys and stuff. I did it only to make rent, on months I was going to come up short. I only did it because I had to. I know you were a cop and all-"

"Different time, different world." Rick smiled. "Hell, I stole a couple of squad cars and a dozen guns from my old precinct so I could get down to Atlanta to get Lori."

The pronunciation of that name sunk the vehicle into silence and effaced their smiles. Rick tensed his expression, his narrowed eyes turning to the window as they felt the impact of the avalanche of silence. No one dared to speak or glance at their friend. Michonne quickly pieced together who Lori was, and smirked, an attempt to lighten the mood.

"I'm shacking up with a bunch of criminals." Michonne said.

"Do you see where it crashed?" Lee said. "Do you know where we're going?"

"I'm just following that trail of smoke from the treeline, that's where it went. See it?" Glenn said, beaming his finger towards the woods, from which a cloud of smoke emanated.

"Do we have enough gas to get us there?" Maggie said.

"We've got a little under half a tank. That's more than enough to get us there and back. We should have no problems."

Rick sighed, putting his thoughts aside.

"There's a lot of walkers out here. It's almost as if they're headed right for the prison like they know it's there."

"Yeah, it's starting to get crowded at the outer fence now that the weather is warm." Maggie said.

"I was thinking, since we've got these suits now, a couple of us could just go outside and clean the house once a day starting tomorrow." Glenn said. "It wouldn't take too long to get rid of all the ones out there now, and after they're all gone, we can just kill the new arrivals as they build up."

"Or we can just use our melee weapons and slide them through the fences, like we did when we arrived at the prison." Lee said.

"Yeah, that makes sense." Rick said. "Before it wasn't a priority and it seemed like a waste of ammo. Ammo we didn't have. Stabbing them through the fence thinned them out but nobody does it on a regular basis. It'd be safer to do it with these suits."

Glenn actioned the brakes on the truck, coming to a smooth halt. The road curved to the right, but the smoke came from the woods to their left. Glenn knew that they could either follow the road, which would take a lot of time and might lead them away from the helicopter, thus was not an option, or he had to drive off-road as a shortcut.

"Shit. The road isn't taking us where we need it to go." Lee said.

"I knew I should've grabbed the SUV." Glenn said.

Glenn detoured towards a clearing fissuring the forest in two. The uneven dirt path made the vehicle wobble and made the steering more difficult. They clutched onto their seats, their heads bouncing as if they were bobbing-head figurines. Michonne was ejected from her seat and her head bumped against the roof. She grunted, rubbing her scalp.

"This is gonna be fun."

"Looks like this is going to be a bumpy ride." Glenn said.

"Thanks for the warning."

"It—ugh—won't be so bad if you just slow down a little!" Rick said.

"That's probably a good idea." Glenn said, slowing down the truck. "Is this better? We're not going to get there much faster than if we ran but at least our brains won't be scrambled."

"Just get us there." Rick said.

Glenn turned his eyes to the road. A small, half-broken wooden fence as high as their waists stood in their path.

"Okay, now I've just got to get over this—"

The truck braked, the gravitational force slamming Glenn and Maggie against the dashboard and Lee, Rick and Michonne against the rear of the front seats. The vehicle stopped moving. Glenn stepped on the accelerator. The engine gnarled and mud splashed against the frontal bumper, the rotations counter rising to abnormal heights, and the truck remained in place.

"Oh, shit." Glenn said.

"Maybe slowing down so much wasn't a good idea. I think we're stuck." Lee said.

They exited the car.

"Okay, fuck." Rick said. "Now we're walking. If anyone survived that crash I hope they can walk. 'Cause I really don't feel like carrying them to the prison."

"Once we get to the woods, we won't be able to see the smoke." Maggie said. "How are we going to find this thing?"

"We're almost there, it shouldn't be too hard." Michonne said. "You should be more worried about what's in these woods. Anything could be on the other side of any of these trees. Stay alert, you should smell them before they're close enough to bite."

"Let's try and move quickly." Lee said. "It's going to get dark before we get back now. We oughta be as close to the prison when the sun goes down."

"No argument there." Glenn said.

The quintet penetrated into the forest. The trees and foliage immersed them in another world, within its fresh embrace. Leaves crunched under their feet, while a few birch trees started to birth yellowed leaves. The beginning of autumn. They slowed their pace. They were in a tighter environment, with pervasive hiding spots. They examined each corner of the forest, keeping their hearing tuned at the best frequency.

There was a rustle. Michonne brought a finger to her lips.

"Ssh."

A marching corpse stumbled from behind a tree. Michonne instantly drove her katana in and out its eye socket, sending its lifeless corpse into a pit of ivy and tree roots.

"So what did you do before this?" Maggie smiled. "Never thought them ninjas were still around. They hirin' for samurai?"

"I was a lawyer." Michonne said.

"I don't find that the least bit surprising." Rick deadpanned. "Lot of swordplay around the office? Makes sense."

"I did fencing when I was little. Did it again in college. Got pretty good at it. It was a good way to let off some steam during my seventeen years or so of college. The neighbor's son, highschool-aged little shithead, was a sword junkie. Had all kinds, kept them sharp as hell. Used to cut the shit out of the fence between our yards. I swear he killed our cat, we never did find it, but I know it was him. When the shit went down, the first place I went to was his house. Grabbed this thing. Was easier than finding a gun. And it doesn't draw any attention to you."

"I hear you there." Lee said, his machete dangling off his belt. "I've got my machete here, Rick has his axe and Tyreese has his little hammer. Might as well get used to it. Doubt anyone's out there making new bullets."

The smell of death was carried by a breeze. A moan blared right next to Michonne's ear. She sprang towards the zombie, just a step away and its fingers almost fondling her. The lack of time to properly react made her conduct her katana without directing it. The blade swept its stomach. A crevasse of blood was torn apart, its intestines bubbling out of the gap like parasitical worms. Michonne spun the blade once again, this time disconnecting its head from its neck in a volcano of jet, black blood. She advanced past her undead victim with no reluctance, its jaws still moving up and down like a zombified Pac-Man. Her cohorts behind stared at the decapitated head as if it were an admirable piece of art, as they marched behind her. An image of the beheaded twins came to Lee's mind, but he quickly numbed that horrid memory. Michonne jerked her blade, waving off some of the blood.

The smoke snaked towards the sky a few meters away as they reached a clearing, appearing to be just in arm's reach.

"I can see the smoke again! I think we're getting close!" Glenn said.

They dashed through the last stretch of their journey, ceasing their footfalls when they reached a steep slope. Below them, in a creek bed, the helicopter was drowned in a layer of mud and running water, end-of-the-day sunlight bouncing off the broken shards of glass. The rotor blades were bent and twisted, one of them fractured in half and arching back and forth with the strength of the wind. Lee and Glenn jogged down the slope, the excitement growing inside them.

"It looks like they were able to land in this creek bed. That might've lessened the impact." Maggie said.

"Do you see anybody?" Rick said.

Lee and Glenn peeked inside. They held their breaths. There was a blank in the pilot seats.

"No, nobody's here." Glenn said, scratching his head. "But that doesn't make any sense! They couldn't have jumped out, could they?"

"They would've been injured. Right?" Lee said.

"Who knows?" Rick said. "Try to see if there's anything that might tell us where the copter came from."

"Wait—look!" Lee said.

Lee beamed his finger to the ground. An assortment of jumbled footprints were marked in the mud, that continued towards the north of the forest, perpendicular to where they came from. Large bootprints, hard to make out how many different people.

"What does this mean?" Maggie said.

"Whoever was in the helicopter, someone took them." Rick said. "Someone who was closer than we were."

"Shit…we just got the prison on track." Lee said. "Should we really put what we have at risk? People mean trouble."

"But this is too important!" Glenn said. "What if there's someplace untouched by the disease? A place that has choppers must mean it's holding up just fine."

"Lee's right, we can't risk encountering more people." Rick said. "But Glenn is also right. We might miss out on something real important here. We'll chase after these footprints, but we don't engage with anyone, okay?"

"You sure? 'Cause it's gonna get dark soon." Maggie said.

His conversation with Carl reverberated in his mind. _How long will you be gone? Not too long for you to notice. _But they needed to pursue this clue. _I'm sorry, Carl._

"I hate the idea of not being back before dark, but by tomorrow the trail will be cold. Let's go."

The squad chased after the footprints in a jog.

"Those prints made it seem like there were three or four people." Glenn said. "But the mud made it hard to see. For all I know there could have been a dozen. They had to be a few to carry injured people out of there."

"Let's hurry. I don't want to be out here in the dark no more than we have to." Lee said.

The trail led to a concrete road, paved between two plaques of forested zones. Burnt tire marks were visible for a meter in the road.

"Looks like we know which direction they went in." Maggie said.

"Hey, check out the sign." Glenn said.

Their heads turned towards a large sign, where several locations and their distances were written._ Woodbury, 1. Fayetteville, 31. Atlanta, 53._

"Hmm. My money's on Woodbury." Rick said, rubbing his chin. "Maybe they're holed up on a store or something there."

"Looks like we're going to find out." Michonne said.

"We seem to be okay so far." Maggie said. "Maybe there aren't any roamers in this area. That'd be our first bit of luck today."

"They're there."

Maggie and Glenn turned their heads in every direction.

"What do you mean? I don't hear any." Glenn said.

"You're not listening hard enough. They're there, at least a dozen of them and more every minute."

Rick and Lee shelled their ears with their hands. Nothing.

"You sure?" Rick frowned.

"That's just how it works out in the open. We're passing them, walking right by them without noticing. But they're noticing, and following. They can't walk as fast as us, so the longer we walk, the further away they'll be. But they're still after us. When we get to wherever it is we're going, when we stop it's just a matter of time until they catch up to us. And the longer our trip, the more there will be."

Lee, Rick and Maggie exchanged impressed glances. Astute and observant. Rick was wary of her presence, but so far she was a great asset against the walkers, both in fighting them and remarking those little details about how their half-dead brains worked. Her words turned Glenn paranoid, who swallowed his saliva and looked past his shoulder with peeled eyes. Not looking towards his path prompted him to trip over a rock, which almost knocked him off his feet.

"Watch it." Michonne said.

* * *

_Welcome to Woodbury. Population, 1,102. _

"Well, this is it." Rick said.

The quintet stood beside the sign, indicating the city of Woodbury to be upfront. The skyline of apartment buildings was painted in front of them, discernible only because it was darker than the twilight. They could barely recognize each other in the obscurity. They identified a few buildings, such as a gas station, a McDonald's and a Walmart, but those edifices were deserted, with broken windows and doomsday messages tagged on them. The most recent newspapers from a year ago danced in the wind. Windows were barred with planks and furniture. The crickets sang in a choir nearby.

"This can't be it. It's dead." Maggie said.

"It is dead. There's nothing here. Nothing alive." Michonne said.

"Christ, you may be right." Rick said.

"Talk about a waste of time." Lee said.

"We can't turn around now." Michonne said. "We've got too many walkers on our tail. Some are as close as twenty steps behind us."

"We catch one, maybe we'd have time to rub some parts of us, mask our smell. It's worked well. Then, we could get past them." Lee said.

"If we could do that, we should be able to make it back to the prison." Maggie said.

"Goddamn, that seems like our only hope." Rick said. "Michonne, can you tell how far apart they are? Could we grab one before the rest caught up to us?"

Growls revved in the veil of night like a motor, their conversation being the keys twisting the ignition. Lee took out his machete, narrowing his eyes. He could barely see the shadows of the dead shuffling towards them. It was like a colossal paintbrush drenched the world in a void of black. He raised his arm, tightening his grip on his machete. A walker with a bandana around its face was in front of him. Just before he could down his arm, a bullet whizzed through its skull, the combusted gunpowder piercing the night a few meters away from them.

Lee jumped back, as their eyes turned to the walker whose balance was tipped. Spotlights came to life nearby, bright as suns, scorching their pupils. They shut their eyelids and barred them with their arms. An order was barked from the same direction as the suns.

"Down on your stomachs! We don't want to shoot you by accident!"

The five of them sprawled on the floor, squinting into the blinding light. Pairs of feet were visible with the illumination, shambling towards them. Their ears were drilled with a rain of bullets that stormed the zombies, their bodies thumping against the concrete like sandbags. _Assault rifles, _Rick thought. After a few seconds, the town fell into silence one more, the final gunshots bouncing amid the buildings, while the moans became quiet.

"Now walk towards the light! Quickly! Before any more biters catch up to you! Now!"

Rick hopped to his feet and shielded his eyes, the spotlights ghosting whatever stood in front of them.

"Who the hell are you?! What are you doing here?!"

A hand emerged from the light and grasped Rick by the collar, driving him to hold his breath.

"We living, motherfucker! Now get in here 'fore we the only ones!"

Rick was yanked into the light, vanishing out of sight as if he was carried to another dimension. Lee heard fast footsteps around him. His friends must have followed after the sheriff. His gut told him not to walk towards the spotlights, but he sensed the walkers ganging up on him. It was life or death. He sprinted towards the light. In a synapsis of memory, that sentence Chuck told him earlier resonated in his mind. _Get too close to the sun, your wings will singe._

He walked to the other side of the spotlights. A door was slammed shut behind him. He blinked, the white wires he saw in his eyelids disappearing as his pupils readjusted. Rick, Maggie, Glenn and Michonne were there, rubbing or protecting their eyes as well. Behind them, a wall made of riveted metal sheets fenced them off from the exterior. Cherry pickers and scaffholding butted against the wall served as a platform where gunned men kept watch, assault rifles of military grade in their hands. The spotlights came from the roofs of two military trucks with rear enclosures made of wooden planks, parked near the fence. The guy who pulled Rick in was in front of them, a burly guy with a shaved head and an exaggerated expression, making him look like a troll. Apartment buildings unfolded in front of them like the ones they saw before, but these didn't have barred windows and seemed like people actually lived inside – washed clothes hanging from balconies, a few heads popping up at the darkened windows.

Rick and Lee switched a frustrated glance, before Glenn, Maggie and Michonne looked at them. The confrontation with strangers they sought to avoid had happened, but since they were no going back now, they needed a game plan. They spoke in telepathic messages. _We don't tell anyone about the prison. We don't tell anyone about the group. We leave as soon as possible. We play along. _Glenn shivered, flicking his eyes through the armed men who all looked like rogue or deserted soldiers.

A man of Hispanic ethnicity marched towards them, his hair tied with a bandana, seemingly the captain of the soldiers.

"Get their weapons, Wes. Guns, knives, all of them. Make sure they're clean before they take another step inside the city."

"Right, boss." Wes said.

The troll, apparently named Wes, reached for Michonne's katana, but she withdrew her arm. Lee turned his gaze towards her, as if using it to remind her of the rule they established. _We play along._

"Let 'em, Michonne. Seems like we don't have much choice." Lee said.

Michonne grunted, before passing him her katana. Wes checked the four others, taking their bladed and blunt weapons, along with their pistols.

"Why are you taking our weapons?" Rick said. "We just want to know what happened to the people in the helicopter. You saved them, right?"

"We don't want to hurt you." The Hispanic man said. "Taking the weapons is for our protection. We get a lot of crazies in here. Name's Martinez. Welcome to Woodbury, the last little town on Earth."

Martinez turned to a dark man atop the scaffholding.

"I'm taking them to the big man, Shumpert. I hear about a biter getting so much as twenty feet close to the wall, you're going to hear about it. Clean house."

Martinez turned to the newcomers.

"You guys can follow me."

"I can take it from here, Martinez."

Their heads turned at the same time towards the baritone voice. And it was clear from the start that he was the man in charge.

Perhaps it was because of his stunning first impression, or perhaps it was evident because of the two bodyguards accompanying him. One of them had a larger belly, with slicked back ginger hair, while the other was a mountain of biceps and pectorals, a black soul patch adorning his hairless head. But the chief himself immediately contrasted from the other wannabe soldiers. Instead of a militarized attire, he wore a dark shirt behind a quaint vest, and his muscles weren't swollen like the others as if they had been stung by bees. His posture was straight, impacting them with confidence and determination. His warm, blue eyes emanated trust, and his lips that sunk in two holes around their corners whenever he smiled emitted a strong vibe of Southern hospitality. He walked up to them, his accent as Southern as the vibe hovering around him.

"I'd like to escort the guests myself. I need you at the wall, cleaning off all the biters they no doubt dragged with them."

"Yes, sir, Governor. I didn't know you'd be coming out to get them when we gave word of their arrival. They're all yours." Martinez said.

Caesar Ramón Martinez nodded and removed himself from the scene. The Governor nudged his head towards them, waving his hand towards the end of the street.

"Follow me, folks. I'll give you the nickel tour."

The Governor led them down the road. _We play along._ They followed after him, keeping their eyes wary, expecting the man to pull a gun on them at any minute.

"Governor?" Rick snorted.

"I wear the title with a smile." He said. "It's more of a joke than anything else, but fuck it, who's out there to say otherwise? I almost went for President, but it sounded too silly. Always did want to be the Governor."

Lee stepped forward, walking alongside him. _We leave as soon as possible._

"Listen, we don't mean to be rude. But we would like to get our weapons and leave."

"Of course. We'll let you go whenever you want to leave. In the morning. Right now, the biters are cluttered everywhere around the walls. You won't make it too far, and I don't want your agonized, dying screams to bring more of 'em on top of us."

Lee looked around the streets, which were barren of people.

"Is everyone in your town a gun totting guerilla? Where is everyone else?"

"We established a curfew a while back. At night, only the guards are allowed outside. But tonight, the curfew isn't the reason you ain't seeing nobody. You'll see why soon. So, tell me, what's your story, stranger?"

Michonne pressed her brows down onto her eyes.

"No story. We've been traveling since the turn. Saw the helicopter and was close enough to investigate. Just not closer than you, right?"

The Governor reeled in his smile, turning to her with an innocent, patronizing gaze.

"Believe I was talking to the men here, m'am. I hope you understand."

Michonne grunted as he turned back to Rick and Lee. They would have to create a new backstory for them, one where they were just five drifters, who kept on keeping on. _We don't tell anyone about the prison. We don't tell anyone about the group. _They continued chatting as they walked. Rick spoke in a casual tone.

"That's our story. Shit hit the fan. We've been walking ever since. What about you? You seem to be holding this place down pretty good. What do you got here? A couple of blocks fenced off? Nice."

"Four blocks, actually. We're working on the fences for the fifth one. We got about forty people here. Seemed like we were getting more every day at first, then nothing. You're the first in a month. Hard winter, I guess. You want to know why we lost? The government, I mean. The war against the biters. We did lose, y'know. President sends out the national guards to secure the cities, make them safe zones for all us normal folks to flock to. I'm sure you remember that part of the story. Main problem there is the average weekend warrior worried more about his wife and kid than he was about driving his ass off to Atlanta to fight off corpses. Whole guard station about a mile away, completely abandoned. All kinda supplies left inside. We been making good use of it. Night vision goggles, sniper rifles, ammo, you seen it in action. This place wouldn't be shit without it."

Up ahead, there was some kind of small stadium, illuminated by spotlights. Mobbed clamor echoed from within it.

"You sound lucky." Lee said. "Where is it you're taking us? We're walking toward that light. What is that? Baseball game?"

"Well, stranger, it seems like we're not the only lucky ones here. We've got a fight tonight."

The Governor led them up a stairway, his two bodyguards tracing his each step, conducting them onto the bleachers. The oval field wasn't too big, about fifteen meters in diameter, and it was made of sand, reminiscing of a fighting arena. The bleachers were laden with families and friends, waving their fists in the air while two men threw punches on the stage. On the edges of the ring, walkers were chained by their necks, their arms flailing towards the battlers that were out of reach. They narrowed their eyelids, wondering what kind of event that was.

"What is this? You force people to fight in this arena?" Lee asked.

"Force? No." The Governor grinned. "Those two are professional members of our militia. It's a part of their duty to entertain the people. While we do have an isolated incident on occasion, those men are instructed to just throw a few punches, just to put on a show, spill a few harmless drops of blood. Not kill each other.

They stopped on a walkway towering about the bleachers, and a control booth was nearby. Rick, Lee, Michonne, Glenn and Maggie were reluctant about the justification of having people fight in the arena for fun, but they didn't say anything. They played along, and they didn't say anything that was unnecessary.

"Curious about the electricity? Fucking rednecks. They loved their track racing so damn much they had a big ass generator installed. That way their night races wouldn't be interrupted by a power failure. Fights are mostly during the day. We save the generator for special occasions. We can watch for a minute or two."

The Governor leaned on the railing, his two bodyguards erected behind him. Rick and the others perched themselves on the rail as well, deciding to imitate the Governor and do whatever he said. A bald man was lying on the sand, while another one stood over him. He had his back turned towards them, but his graying, cropped hair made him look like was in his forties. A finalizing punch landed on the bald guy's jaw, sending a jet of blood onto the sand. The crowd roared louder and the man raised his fists in the air, howling his victory. He turned around, revealing his face.

Rick, Lee and Glenn withheld a gasp, one simultaneous thought crossing their minds.

_You have got to be kidding me._

Merle Dixon stood in the arena, his dry and crooked smile that wrinkled his neck skin emitting a taunting laughter. Rick cursed under his breath. They could not be associated with Merle, or he would tell the Governor a different story from his. Lee and Glenn discreetly turned their heads.

But Merle then locked gazes with Rick.

"I think we've watched enough." Rick said.

"Alright, come on there, I've got a private room. Best seat in the show."

The Governor opened the booth door, the newcomers marching inside after him and his bodyguards. Rick cursed under his breath. From the distance, he wasn't able to make out his expression. It was possible that Merle hadn't recognized him since it had been almost a year since they saw each other and he was standing about twenty meters away. But he was sure that he had kept a grudge, and with it the image of their faces as well. It was sheer impossible for him not to have recognized him. They were fucked.

"I'm sensing a bit of disapproval, stranger. In case you haven't noticed, the cable's out. Not a whole lot of entertainment to be had. People get restless without entertainment. Making the zombies fight each other doesn't make for a big show, so we put gladiators in there. The walkers are extra motivation."

"You serious?" Lee said. "You fence off this area, make it safe then cart in a pile of walkers for entertainment. Not very safe, Governor."

"Close that door, Bruce."

Bruce shut the door. The cheering crowd became muffled in the exterior. Maggie, Glenn and Michonne kept their eyesight locked past their shoulder, where Bruce and Gabe stood behind them. He had isolated them from their weapons and the exterior. Glenn gulped, a cold sweat coursing his body. The Governor leaned his back against a desk, his body language consisting of a hand gesturing as he spoke flowing at ease.

"And yeah, we've had a few accidents. But when we started feeding them, they got pretty docile."

"Feed them?!" Lee said. "The hell you been feeding them?!"

"Well, stranger, we're feeding them strangers."

His sentence was punctuated by two hammers being cocked. They peeped behind them from the corner of their eyes. Gabe Harris and Bruce Cooper were holding their pistols at the height of their heads. Glenn let out a shocked whimper, his twisted lips showing his grinding teeth. Maggie forced herself to remain calm, straight as a statue. Rick, Lee and Michonne didn't budge. They were anticipating this the moment those spotlights came on, and at the time, their only hope was that this wouldn't happen, even if it was a long shot. But as always, it did. Lee winced for a split second, one word coming to his mind just like every time he was in danger. _Clementine._ He and Rick forced an exhale through their noses, their eyes fixated on the handguns through the corner of their eyes. Rick spoke bluntly, considering that there was no surprise on what was happening.

"So that's it then? You're going to feed us to your pet zombies? Is that what you did with the people in the helicopter?"

The Governor remained with the same relaxed posture, leaned against his desk, talking with a warm smile.

"Yeah, that couple is getting chopped up right now in preparation for the reward feast that'll go down after the fight. Should be all gone by the time the sun comes up. That is, unless one of the fighters gets too close to the biters and they're full after the fight. Although I'm sure that Merle won't let himself get chomped. But yeah, sadly, that hapens from time to time. They'll never admit it, but that's why the people show up. They love it so much."

"You sick fuck!" Lee said.

"Kindly shut the fuck up, brother. I'm sure that we could get a couple bullets in you with no trouble at all. In fact, can we just get something out of the way? Please. I think it'll make things at least a tad less tense. Can we just come to the understanding that we've got the guns and if you struggle or if you try to leave this room my guards will kill you where you stand? Can we just acknowledge that you realize that?"

Rick averted his gaze. Glenn and Maggie clutched each other's hands. The Governor looked at their hand-holding, which brought a smirk to his lips.

"Cute. Listen, I don't care whether you live or you die. Don't misunderstand me. I just don't want you to get accidentally shot while I'm trying to talk. I hate getting interrupted."

Rick and Lee glanced at the two armed henchmen. If the small compartment were a chessboard, then it was clear they were on the losing team. The five of them were but pawns, with the king in front of open wide open, but any move they made would end with the two knights, standing a diagonal step away from them, quickly finishing them off.

"You've got us over a barrel." Rick said. "Wanna talk? Talk. Just get it over with."

"I agree. I don't want to miss the fight. Your friends in the helicopter, I didn't want anything from them. They didn't have anything I could use, or rather, anything I could get to. The woman survived the crash. Told us everything we wanted to hear. Provided we asked in a not-so-nice way. They were holed up at some news station in Atlanta. Channel 9, or whatever. Never really cared much about the news. Except that one channel with the foxy reporter, what was her name? Carla? Carolyn? Carley something, I think."

Lee lowered his head for a few seconds, but kept a straight face, a distant memory resurfacing in his mind. _I was a reporter for WBEA. Buncha work hours. Rarely got a day off or even some time to myself._

"Damn, she made watching the news worthwhile. Anyways, the woman and the rest of the people that worked there, including the traffic helicopter pilot that died in the crash – lucky devil - lived there together. There were about twenty of them, she said. They turned on each other, ran out of food, something, started killing each other. Our lady and the pilot got out, but some sick fuck sabotaged the chopper's engine. Seems he wanted to make sure no one left without him. There's a lesson there. You gotta keep people occupied or they'll turn on you. Reading and fucking will only keep people busy for so long. Eventually there's gotta be something else. Hence our little sporting event here."

"So you put on gladiator fights? What is this? A wannabe Roman Empire?" Lee said.

"Well, no." The Governor chuckled. "I'm not one for sand and sandals. And we're a bit short on swords. But enough about that, for now. There's plenty of things I'd like to have in that building, the Channel 9 building. But in the center of Atlanta, Biterville, ain't no way I'm gonna get it. So they get fed to the biters. I mean, somebody's gotta be. Why not them? They got fed to the zombies, but you, you walked here. That means that wherever you came from is reasonably close."

Michonne glared at him. The Governor sprang his gaze towards her, his smile broadening.

"That's right, sister. I don't believe a word of your story. Obviously, you were right not to trust me, but I saw through your story immediately."

"You saw through nothing." Lee said. "We've just been drifting for months now."

"Bullshit. Walking around all this time? Not fucking likely. No, you're close by here, somewhere. A warehouse, a school, a farm, I'll admit, I don't know this area too well. I'm not from here. But I'm not stupid."

"Looks to me your living situation is fine." Glenn said, a bead of sweat sliding down his forehead. "What would you even want from us?!"

"Everything. Your guns, your food, your bullets, vehicles, tools, other weapons, those suits, all kinds of stuff. I mean, did you expect me to believe you just found those suits during your travels?"

"You should just kill us now!" Rick said. "We don't have anything for you to find! We found these suits on some dead bodies. That's how we've been surviving out there. There is no camp. There is no other people, no other supplies."

"You're a good liar, but I'm just not buying it." The Governor chuckled. "You don't even have a water bottle with you. I know there's more, and I know I'm gonna be able to get all the information I need out of you."

"We're not telling you a fucking thing because there's nothing to tell." Lee said.

The Governor straightened his mocking smile. His eyes became cold and patience drained from them. Frustration seeped through a sigh, his calm tone elevating towards a shout.

"Hold them!"

He grasped Lee by the collar, while Bruce and Gabe jolted their pistols towards Rick, Maggie, Glenn and Michonne.

"I don't think these motherfuckers realize just how serious this situations is! Bruce, hold this one down for me."

"Yes, sir."

Lee grinded his teeth as Bruce gripped his nape and shoved his torso onto the desk, the impact sending a pain impulse up his cheekbone. He squirmed like a mental patient in a straitjacket, but a muscled arm riveted him to the table and another one pinned down his wrist. Rick growled, taking a step forward but staying in his place after reminding himself of the gun cast at him. Lee looked at the corner of his eyes. The Governor towered above him, taking out a gargantuan combat knife from his belt.

"Bruce is really strong, so resisting is just a waste of time. Now, let's get things straight. You're going to tell me what I want to know. I've got five of you. I can do all kinds of nasty shit to you in front of each other. One of you will talk. That's just how it works. I will get what I want. There is nothing you can do to prevent that. Do I make myself clear?!"

The Governor raised his knife, holding Lee's sole hand against the desk.

"I wonder how you'll survive out there with no fucking hands!"

The door screeched open. The Governor held his knife in the air, their heads turning towards it. Merle stood there, his bright eyes glowing like fireflies, an uncontrollable laughter leaving his lips.

"Oh, my Lordy, Lord! I cannot believe this!" Merle said.

"Merle, shouldn't you be taking a bow in the arena? I'm in the middle of something here." The Governor said with a frown. "If you don't mind…"

"I'm awfully sorry, Governor, but this, this…I know these people!" Merle said, losing his smile. "Almost left me for dead up on a roof. They got a big group, last time I was with 'em. Children, women."

The Governor erected himself and snickered. He let go of Lee's hand. Lee released a silent sigh, his spine chilling from the relief. Rick wiped his forehead, sure that his friend was going to be permanently maimed for good. Merle looked at Glenn.

"The hell happened to you, Chinese man? Your head's as hairless as your balls!"

"Take them to the cells." The Governor said. "We'll-"

Michonne rushed towards the Governor, jumping toward him. She shoved him against his desk while grabbing him by the collar, his spine crashing against the table. Glenn remained frozen, his back against the wall, his girlfriend standing close to him. Lee sprang his head towards Gabe, who was fixated on the battle. Now was his chance. He stiffened his muscles, ready to attack, but then another gun was cocked next to his ear. He shut his eyes, turning around. Merle stood there, his pistol looking down at him, his eyebrows raised.

"Uh-uh." Merle mumbled.

The Governor slapped her and squirmed, but her grip remained tight as she tried to lurch her head closer to him.

"Bruce! Grab her! Now! Get her off of me!"

Bruce stomped towards them and grappled her poncho. She barely budged, then she wrapped her teeth around the Governor's ear. He howled, the hot pain imploding in the side of his cranium. Bruce jerked her back with a strong pull, finally yanking her off. But that just facilitated things for her. She remained with her teeth dug into his ear, and when he pulled, his ear was shredded in half, a spurt of capillary blood squirting.

"Fuuuck!"

Michonne spat the fragment of his ear that she held between her teeth. Bruce chained his arm around her neck, strong breaths heaving through his flaring nostrils.

"I'm gonna break this little bitch's neck! Just say the word, boss."

The Governor recomposed his posture, leaning against the desk, groaning as he clutched his bleeding ear.

"No! Don't do a fucking thing to her! I don't—ugh—this girl to get a bruise that doesn't come from me! She'll suffer for what she's done. She'll wish she was dead. The things I'm gonna do to her, the pain I'm going to cause her…this is going to be fun."

The Governor marched towards the window, the rage brewed from the pain slowly dissipating.

"When the crowd thins out take the four of them into the cells. But put the brown sugar in the room."

* * *

** AUTHOR NOTE: 14k words! Damn, these chapters just keep getting bigger.**

** I think the part I enjoyed most about this chapter was the first third of it, where we basically stroll around the prison, checking in on every survivor. I went an extra length to make sure every character was at least mentioned, and I think it payed off. I'll be sure to insert as many characters as I can in the future, since I feel I've neglected this aspect in the past, albeit most of you seem satisfied with how I've handled characters in the past, I admit I could've done better.**

** I had to go back in this story to make sure if Glenn announcing he used to steal cars was a surprise or not, because in the TV Show he hotwires the Red Challenger, and I discovered that my two-years-ago me had Rick hotwire the Challenger *facepalm*. Damn, was I stupid back then! I ain't the same guy anymore! Let's just take a step back, and acknowledge that I'm pretty much a different wolf and a different writer at this point, and such idiocies shall not occur. This also led me to reread most of my story, which was a clusterfuck of cringe and facepalms, especially regarding some bad choices I made for the story. Kinda surprised most of you guys stuck around this long considering my stupidity! I really need to get Snow to beta-read my shit before posting it. Or Colin maybe, but he'd just use that as an excuse to bum more of my cigs.**

** Also, The Governor here has the "pretty boy, charmer, Jim Jones type" traits from his TV counterpart, since I did enjoy the way David Morrissey played him, but he'll also have the sheer brutality and ruthlessness of the comic counterpart. He ain't doing no barbecues and picnics!**

** I would like to thank you all for the fantastic support you have all been giving so far. Even after sixty-four terrible chapters, you people still give me feedback that I appreciate a lot and we've reached 53,000 views and 400 reviews on this story. I appreciate that you are still enjoying the story and I enjoy just as much writing it.**


	65. Chaos Theory

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 65 – CHAOS THEORY**

* * *

**Carl**** Bellic: "Also in my opinion, you should have killed Lee off just so we could see some good ol' badass Clementine (Evil as well, if you want to go down that line)."**

**Answer: First of all, Lee being alive doesn't stop Clementine from hardening and being a bit twisted. Second, I will explain to you why killing Lee would have ruined this story. As a crossover, this story must have an equilibrium between the comics, game and show. That's why in Episode 2, for example, I covered the St. John's and the bandits from the game, the Wiltshire Estates from the comics, and the CDC from the show. One of the main contributors to this balance are Rick and Lee. They share the protagonism, with Lee representing the game and Rick representing the comics and the show. The two of them are always on the front lines, leading the story. If I killed Lee, the comics and show would overwhelm and the game would cower in the shadow, because Lee's presence in the main events marks the game's presence. And Clementine couldn't have been a substitute, blasting walkers alongside Rick. So Lee and Rick are both essential to the story, if either of them die, the story withers as well. Sorry for rambling!**

**Watchmen1985:**** "ok i got a funny idea here have you seen the zombie movie diary of the dead by George a romero in it was a deaf amish man named samuel**—**"**

**Answer: NO! NO! NOOOO! STOP! I AM NOT INTRODUCING A ROMERO CHARACTER! Dude, are you high? What is it? Molly, lean, Shakespeare lines, heroine, some solid XO? Whatever it is, I want to get some of that, because you seem to be baked beyond high heavens. Also, no, Kenny and Nate shall not be brothers.**

* * *

Back at the prison, the night settled in with weight. Their friends were expected to have returned safe and sound at that time. Perhaps they were a little delayed, but the preoccupation still remained latent within them. Some of them were dining in the cafeteria, while others were laying about in the cellblock. Beth was sitting in her cell, cradling the little ass-kicker who was barely aged a week. She could get used to doing that. Because she enjoyed looking after the child, and because everything they had was because of Rick. He had a lot of weight to shoulder and he was a fair man, with everything he had done for them, and taking care of Judith was the least she could do. For some reason, Axel kept her company, his bushy and warm smile looking at the baby.

"You are good with her. You got little sisters?"

"No."

"How old are you anyway?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen. Interesting."

Carol showed up at the door. Her reprehensive gaze fell upon the former inmate, sitting just a few milimeters next to the blonde, teenaged girl. His presence irked her, and she would not hesitate to manifest it. She folded her arms before speaking.

"May I speak with you?"

Axel raised his head towards her, then glanced towards Beth, confused for a while.

"Me?"

Carol nodded and stepped outside. Axel rose to his feet and smiled at Beth.

"I'll be right back." Axel said, walking outside and joining Carol. "What's the problem—?"

"Stay away from her."

Axel processed her words for a while as if they were in a foreign language, then turned around before revolving back towards Carol, stretching out his arms in an innocent gesture.

"Please."

"This isn't about you trying to repopulate the Earth."

"I didn't mean no offense. I was locked up for a long while, and well, there weren't many women, you follow me? I mean, most of y'all are taken and you're a lesbian. I was just talking to her."

Carol snorted with a smile, shaking her head. "I'm not a lesbian."

Axel waved his hand over his scalp. "You got the…short hair."

Carol lurched her head forward, raising her eyebrows. _So what?_ Axel cocked his head, his tone incredulous."You're not a lesbian?"

He sketched a simper and propped himself against the perch railing, leaning closer to her.

"My, my. This is interesting."

"No, it's not."

Axel smirked, his gaze remaining inert as she walked away, brushing past him.

* * *

Glenn sealed his eyes on the wall facing him, almost as if he waited a reaction to come out of it. A forlorn, defensive instinct. If the threat can't be seen, there is no threat. But the menace was indeed in the room with him. Merle stood to his right, outside his eyesight, only visible by a blur in his peripheral vision. Glenn was shackled to a chair, his wrists taped against the arms and his ankles to the front legs, a wooden table in front of him. They were in the basement of a warehouse, inside a storage compartment. There were other chambers, where the others had been locked away as well. Except for Michonne. The defacto governor took her elsewhere. The drywalled cell was a hub of junk cluttered against the walls. Tireless bicycles, airport carts piled with luggage, rusty stoves, a frame of mattress springs vertically leaning against the wall.

Merle slowly walked in front of the boy, making sure each footstep echoed. Glenn flinched at each one, a little less each time. He trucked his knife down the table, which chirped with each chip in the surface. He looked at the boy, his back turned towards a lit lightbult dangling from the ceiling. His towering presence cast a shadow upon the prisoner, making him seem like a giant. Merle examined the kid that hailed straight out of the land of the narrowed-eyed people. His breathing was regular, but audible. He smiled. He was trying to keep calm, and was mostly good at it, but his loud exhales betrayed his racing heart, pumping handfuls of dread through his veins. His eyes that were locked in an abstract point weren't a sign of fearless resilience. It was a sign of the prey who was cornered. But Glenn swore to himself that he had to be tough. Or at least pretend to be. He could not give in. Until then, he had only told Merle that his brother was alive, while beholding the threat of a bullet.

"How's T-Dog? Big ol' spear-chucker, tell me where he's at. I'm sure T-Dog would like to bury the hatchet. Let bygones be bygones."

"He didn't make it." Glenn said, his voice steady but with a faint quiver.

"Well, I hope he went slow." Merle said, decelerating the pronounciation of the last word. "Yeah. How about the rest? You can't just tell me my brother is then hold off on where he is. No? Well, maybe the farmer's daughter will help me out. She your whore? Tell me something. When she's scared and she's holding you close—"

Merle's knife kissed the young man in the cheek. Glenn withdrew his head, but Merle kept the blade touching his skin. The cold steel leaked icing sweats down his spine, cold as liquid nitrogen. His solar plexus stung his whole midsection.

"And her trembling skin is close to you, her soft lips are touching you, here and all over here." Merle slid the blade towards his chin. "And over here. Huh? Feels good, don't it? I remember you. Yeah. You the sneaky one. The one with nerve. Back in Atlanta, you were like a baby with no tit to suckle on. But now, you return home to a fine pair of bosoms, don't you? Here I am, my knife caressing your skin…and you're trying to look tough. Don't scare easy, do you? I like that. Now…"

Merle marched behind him. Glenn stiffened his body, anticipating whatever his interrogator was going to do. Merle grasped his head and yanked it back, prickling his tear ducts. His breaths paced up, inflating his cheeks with oxygen outbursts, but his eyes remained riveted. Merle positioned the knife above his upper lip, touching his nostrils. The sharp blade pressured his flesh.

"I wanna know where my brother is."

Glenn groaned as if insulting him in response. Merle removed the knife from his lip, tightening his fists around the handle, thumping in front of Glenn and squatting next to him. He stared into his eyes, talking between teeth.

"I wanna know where he is!"

Glenn snapped his eyes towards him. In a heartbeat, his instincts turned offensive. His head lurched forward, striking Merle in the face. He staggered back with a brief yell. He clutched the bleeding chasm in his nose bridge, bubbling anger making his fingers twitch. He punched the table, but then he cracked a smile. He threw him a headbutt, replying in equal currency. Glenn applied his strengths to shutting his eyelids, numbing pain spreading on his nose. Before he managed to open his eyes, fists pounded his face. Bone struck against bone, puncturing bursts of pain into his cranium. He moved his head aside, but it was impossible to dodge. He tried to open his eyes, but he only managed to crack a thin gap before another punch triggered his corneal reflex and he was left in the darkness of his eyelids.

"Now, I wanna know where their camp is, where they hiding and I wanna know now! I wanna know now! Where the hell are they?! Tell me!"

Merle held his arm back, each liter of rage having been released. He gripped his sore nose bridge, taking a step back and examining the boy. His head was hunkered, not offering any resistence of the gentle tug of gravity. His lower lip was hanging, glowing crimson and dripping blood. He couldn't tell if he had his eyes open or not. _Fucking Chinese. _But it was evident that at least one of them would turn swollen and violet in not too long. Glenn remained inert, absorbing the pain and focusing on his respiration. His heart was beating so hard that it almost hurt him. But what he was suffering didn't wreck him. It would still take more than a severe beating to yank the truth ot of him. Before, maybe it would, but not after almost a year within the realm of the undead.

"I gotta hand it to ya. A lot tougher than I remember. No surprise you lasted this long. Hmm. So tell me, where y'all been at?"

"It's jusht a matter of time 'fo they come looking." Glenn slurred, spitting the blood from his mouth.

"I'll bake a cake. With pink frosting. Would they like that?" Merle straightened his smile. "Ain't nobody coming."

"They are. We have more people than before. They'll—"

"They'll do nothing. Not if they want you and Bo-Peep back. And the civilized nigger. Officer Friendly. And the black bitch."

"You can't take us all. There's too many of us."

"There isn't a pair of nuts between the whole pussy lot 'a y'all."

"We've been on the road! Not hiding behind walls! Rick, Lee, Andrea, Dale, Kenny, Lilly, Carol—"

Merle smiled. "You gon' tell me that ho that got slapped around like a ragdoll at camp is gonna pose a threat? My, my! What a menace y'all are! Listen, I'm lovin' me this chitchat here, but we gotta cut to the chase. We're going to have to cut it short."

Merle got up and marched towards the door.

"I'll be back soon. Don't go anywhere, will ya?"

He slammed the door behind him. The tough guy attitude disguising Glenn thawed in the snap of a finger. The tears fusilladed from his eye ducts, flowing in creeks down his cheeks. His uncontrollable whimpers filled the room, which had become a hourglass where the sand wasn't moving. The world beyond it didn't exist and time was illusory. It had taken him every inch of his courage to hold back the fear and the tears, but now in Merle's absence, he had to let it out. He sniffled, the tears easing. He wiped his wet cheeks against his shoulders. He took deep breaths, counting down from ten to zero in his mind. The tear surge alleviated the excessive emotion, and he would be calmer when Merle returned.

Perhaps ten minutes passed before Merle rushed back into the room. But the thuds of his footfalls followed after a moan. Glenn shrunk his eyelids. Merle leashed a walker with a chain, straggling against the grip and waving its arms toward the bound man. Its greyed eyeballs were bulging, its jaws craving a meal. Glenn thought he could control his emotions, but he was wrong. A rush of panic coursed through him. He squirmed his wrists and ankles against the restraints, grunting with a mix of terror and frustration. Merle walked forward, the zombie approaching its hands to Glenn. He withdrew his head when the biter's fingernails were an inch away from his visage, close to clawing his neck. His eyes deadlocked with the two hungry cue balls staring back at him.

"Last chance! Where is your group?!"

Glenn let out frenzies of groans, as he kept shaking his hands. The pressure weighed him down as if he was in the depths of the ocean with cement on his feet. His survival instinct urged him to snitch. But his voice didn't reveal anything.

"Alright, suit yourself! You're gonna be a pretty big snack for this fella! But you know what they say...he'll be hungry again in an hour!"

Merle backed away towards the door and let go of the walker, closing the door.

The zombie lunged towards him, the chain tinkling as it dragged it behind its steps. Glenn coiled his legs, his soles landing on the walker's stomach and shoving him back with a leg stretch. Glenn was knocked back to the ground with the propulsion, hitting the floor with a scritch. The back of the chair sent a wave of sore pain up his spine, which was benumbed by the adrenaline. The fight or die scenario drove him to simply act and forget any physical pain. He flipped to his side, his legs wriggling to erect himself. Just as he got on his feet, the zombie was already attempting to rise. Glenn kicked the airport cart against him, boxing it beneath the luggage which fell like a castle of cards. With the time he bought, he dashed to the wall and repeatedly swiveled around, colliding the chair against the drywall. The legs snapped with crunches and splinters, but the frame didn't budge. He was still bound.

The zombie flailed the luggage aside and got onto his feet. Glenn scanned the room for another object. There was the frame of mattress springs. Without thinking, he kicked it towards the zombie. The weak object didn't slow it down. The walker slid its arms through the springs and pinned Glenn towards the wall. He shouldered the walker back, one of its fingernails flying so close to his eyeball that he could feel a breeze pierce his iris. He bolted to the table and kneed it onto the walker, managing once again to pin it against the ground. Glenn ran to the opposite wall, and started breaking the chair, one pound at the time.

The chair broke, one of the chair arms remaining taped to his wrist, just as the walker stumbled towards him.

He backed against the wall, raising his arm. The walker chewed on his forearm, covered in duct tape. Glenn howled and drilled its skull with the splintered arm chair, that entered from below its jaw and sticked out from his eye-socket. A spew of blood colored its pale skin, sprinkling onto Glenn's face. He pushed the walker off him, dropping to the ground with his spine sliding down the wall. His vocal cords rattled as he shook the room with a high-pitched roar, fury boiled by testosterone poisoning his blood. He didn't want to cower anymore, playing a tough guy attitude.

He was going to fight his way out of this.

* * *

Philip Blake stared through the windowed garage door, showing a stockroom with a tall ceiling, as vast as a hangar. The walker stockroom. Inside, the headless corpses of the two pilots were surrounded by over twenty walkers, huddled in a squatting circle and their arms digging into the buffet. The concrete floor was rid of its original color, soaked with layer upon layer of dark blood spatters, half-eaten vital organs, mudded shoeprints and the contents of stomachs and intestines belonging to former victims devoured by the zombies. Philip's ear bleeding had stanched and was bandaged after some quick patchwork by Doc Stevens. The garage door muffled their growls of woe, or perhaps of contentment due to the meal that would solely satisfy them for a second. He didn't enjoy watching the walkers. But he did. Every day. It taught him what the world was all about. Hunger that could not be satiated. Just like them. But most importantly, they hardened him. He could not become soft. The moment he felt that shred of humanity returning to him, he always sought out to extinguish it with that sight of robotic, murderous flesh-eaters. He remembered who he used to be before the turn. He worked as a trucker, molded by a life of constant hardships, alcohol and prostitutes. And he was Philip Blake, the craziest motherfucker around as his friends would say, who wrestled a rabid dog at the tender age of his early teens.

Heavy steps thuded near the Governor, emitted by the muscle mountain known as Bruce.

"Sir?"

"We can learn so much from 'em, y'know. Just by watching them. They been at it all night. They just don't stop. They're resilient. They eat until it's gone and they're content. I almost admire them. The thing you have to realize is that they're just us. They're no different. They want what they want. They take what they want. And after they get what they want, they're only content for the briefest span of time. Then they want more."

Philip turned his gaze towards Bruce, who stood neutral during his speech like a dog who couldn't understand his master's words, yet kept on listening.

"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"You wanted me to get you when the woman calmed down. She's calmed down. For the most part."

"Oh…then, what are we waiting for?" Philip smiled.

* * *

Lee wondered when his turn was up. Glenn was in the next cell, and from the noise emanating from it, it semed like Merle has giving him a beating. He still had trouble believing that he could be alive. They abandoned him in Atlanta, when it was crowded and overwhelmed with herds and flocks, inhabiting each street. But the stubborn motherfucker had survived. What concerned him the most was how Daryl would react. He would certainly want to go to Woodbury once they found their way back to the prison and told him, which was a terrible option. Even though he had become his own man in the past year or so, blood ties ran deep and Merle was his only family. Well, the group was his family too. But Daryl didn't seem too connected to them. Not on a deep personal level, anyway.

He turned his thoughts back to present time. He had a lot of time to kill. And he had to dedicate each instant to devising a getaway plan. He checked his restraints - a first instinct whenever one is held captured. His hand was taped to the chair, along with his stump. Gabe took the care of adding extra duct tape to make sure he didn't slide out his stump. But the lack of a hand could help.

* * *

Michonne blinked several times. The penumbra immersed her and she saw white patterns in the darkness, her pupils unable to see much. She was on her knees, ropes tying her arms to the walls. She was in a garage unit. She tested her restraints. They were tight. A voice was bouncing in her head, in slurred and angry statements.

"I'm telling you, I'm just not strong enough. There's nothing I can do. I'm trying, okay! I'm trying but I can't! I can't break loose. I just can't. The ropes are too tight, I just can't—"

The storage door was yanked up. The light bathed the room, her pupils painfully shriveling. Bruce and Philip stood there as silhouettes, the latter donning a smile.

"I'm sorry, don't let me interrupt. You seemed to be having a spirited conversation with...I'm sorry, who exactly was it you were talking to here? Actually, never mind. I don't even care. Let's get this underway. Bruce, do me a favor. Take her pants off."

Philip beamed his finger towards the two lateral walls.

"And tie her leg to that wall. And the other leg to that wall over there. Don't struggle too much just yet, girl. You're gonna want to save your energy."

Bruce kneeled near the girl. She squirmed, barely able to move, thus quickly stopped resisting and fixated her glare on the Governor. Bruce tore off her trousers and underwear, then spread out her legs and tied them to a different wall each. Philip and Michonne stared at each other nonstop. He flashed her his smug attitude, while she spat an ocean of fire towards him.

"After you're done there, Bruce, leave us to it. And shut the door on the way out. Tell me, girl, how long do you think it would take me to ruin your life? Shatter your sense of security, really fuck you up? I think a half an hour could probably do it, but I plan on doing this for as long and often as I can, until you figure out some way to kill yourself." Philip removed his belt and allowed his trousers to drop to the floor, as Bruce finished up knotting her legs to the walls, spread out like her arms. "This is going to be fun."

* * *

Bruce tried to calculate how long Philip had been at it. Perhaps an hour, now. Perhaps less. It was hard to tell, since time was dragging itself like a walker crawling through quicksand. During that time, he just waited outside the garage door, his arms folded, shifting the weight from one leg to another. A myriad of thoughts crossed his mind, mostly of his life from before. He was used to boredom and waiting. He worked at a gas station owned by his father, and his days were spent reclined in a chair, his feet on top of the counter. He detested his sleazy attitude, but considering the pay, he was just doing the worth of the money he received. Yet he managed to scrounge enough money to take his girlfriend Shauna on vacation during the summers. Those were good days. Afternoons spent in a resort with the beach unfolding out their balcony view, their naked, tanned bodies writhing and reaching blissful climaxes as the sun peeked from behind the ocean, the water glittering and the sky soaked in orange hues.

Within the garage compartment, Philip strapped on his belt. Michonne's tank-top was torn in shreds, her lips charred with blood, her cheeks drawn with cuts and one of her eyes blackened and swollen by a hematoma. Philip had a smug grin, his chin held high. His mind was lighter after the relief of sexual desire. The tears ran down her face. Her mind was foggy and clouded by a venomous and potent grudge, dazzled from the long beating. Wild fantasies coursed in her head, of how she hurt that man. How she would crush him. Between her thighs, she felt a tumor growing, her inner self having been violated by an intruder that would always have his stain within her.

"Okay, okay, I'll admit it. I got a little carried away. But I don't regret a thing. I enjoyed it all the way. What about you? No? I didn't think so."

Philip knocked on the door.

"We're through here. Let me out. You go ahead and cry it out, honey. Just get it all out. You've earned it. You don't have to be ashamed of it. Cry your little head out."

"I'm—I'm not crying…for me…" Michonne sniffled. "I'm crying…for you…I think about all the things…I'm gonna do to you…and it makes me cry…it scares me…"

"That's cute. Get some rest. As much as you can, at least. A guy's going to be in here later, clean you up, give you some bandages. Maybe have a little fun himself. But mostly he'll be getting you ready for when I come back. Just want to give you something to look forward to. Later."

* * *

Philip and Bruce marched down the stairs leading to the basement of the warehouse. It was clear that Michonne wouldn't break, despite the beatings and abuse, which he committed more out of enjoyment than necessity. Her lips were stitched. Rick wouldn't talk either, but it was to his cell that they were heading. Once they reached the final step, the smacks of fists striking bone resounded, muffled behind walls. Merle's endeavors with one of the prisoners.

"What do you plan to get from that guy, Governor?" Bruce asked.

"Well, it was clear from the start that he wasn't going to give away his location. He must have family back there. So I wanna pit him in the arena. At least get some entertainment out of him." Philip said, halting in front of his door and unlocking it. "Get your gun out. He's sure to be a rebel dog."

Bruce nodded and reached for his gun, next to his knife, as Philip opened the door. He stepped inside, and before he could get his bearings, some entity rammed him against the wall. Bruce rushed after him, seeing that Rick had managed to tackle the Governor, despite being strapped to the chair. Bruce raised his gun, but Rick swiveled around with a hop and one of the chair legs struck his pistol, making it fly across the room. Before he could whip out his knife, Rick pummeled him and knocked him to the ground. His arms struggled to grab his knife, and when he got a grip on it, he drove it into Rick's side. He let out an agonized holler, dropping to the side as his eyes fluttered closed. Bruce erected to a sitting position, the bloodied knfie in his hand, as Philip marched towards him with his teeth showing.

"Fuck, Bruce! The hell you do to him?!"

"He—he jumped me! I'm sorr—"

"Shut up and help me take him to Stevens!"

* * *

Stevens wiped his glasses with the tip of his lab coat. After mending the idiot that got his ass handed to him by Merle in the arena that night, his shift was over. To be honest, he didn't quite appreciate going back home. It was just a lonely, earnest, tight apartment. Although his infirmary was barely a better alternative. His entire life, mostly in the aftermath of the outbreak, was imprisoned amid those tiled walls, the medical beds, the sanitized scent, the instrument trays and pillboxes. Nowadays, he only healed the people that came to the nursery because he was forced to. He detested the arena fights and were a blatant squandering of good gauze and supplies. At least there was Alice, his young apprentice, who offered some respite to the madness of the town and their leader.

He heard the door being burst open. He slid his glasses back into his nose bridge.

"What the hell is—"

"Stevens!" Philip blared from behind him. "Shut the fuck up, please. We've got a situation."

Stevens spun around, his eyes bulging. Philip and Bruce were hauling a man by the extremeties, his unconscious expression contorted in a pain spasm. He was wearing riot gear, but in the gap between his vest and the lateral padding, a deep wound was bleeding profusely. He had greying stubble and curly, raven hair. Stevens stood in place with his jaw hanging, while Philip and Bruce dropped Rick in a bed. Bruce ripped off his vest and his shirt, revealing the crimson gash in his abdomen that soaked his fingers in blood. Stevens rapidly snapped out of his trance and marched towards the patient.

"Who is this man?! I've never seen him before! Is this another victim of your goddamned arena fights?! Who did this to him?!"

"You forget the agreement?!" Philip growled between teeth. "I keep this little community fed, happy and well supplied and you don't ask any goddamned questions."

Stevens opened his mouth, a reply tangled in his tongue, which he held back. He hung his head, focusing on the injured man as his hands started flying everywhere, reaching for towels, disinfectant, tools and bandages.

"He's lost some blood, not too much. I'll still have to go into the blood reserves to keep him alive. Can you send someone to get Alice? I'm going to need some help with this."

"I'll send Alice down here dancing on a rubber ball if you want. Use the blood, keep the generator running all night, I don't give a fuck, just keep this asshole alive. He's got something I want. I'm far from through with him."

"Whatever you say, Mister Governor. You're the boss."

"Right, very cute, Stevens. As if you have ever been anything close to obedient. And don't damage that armor, either! That's mine."

Philip and Bruce vanished outside. Stevens worked in silence and concentration, cleaning the blood and stanching the wound.

"What has that monster done to you?"

* * *

Philip gathered with Merle, Gabe and Bruce in the alleyway between the warehouse and the next building. With the close shave with Rick having been handled, they had to quickly go back to getting some answers from their captives. The first straws of sunlight were shedding onto the earth, and families and groups of townspeople moseyed about in the sidewalks or the roads, considering the absence of traffic in the goddamned apocalypse. Philip wasn't sure if they didn't notice whenever he held a shady meeting with his highly-ranked men, or if they did but knew that it wasn't their business to snoop around in. Philip turned to Merle.

"So, they know your brother." Philip said.

Merle nodded. "They do. But I don't know about the two girls. I ain't seen them before."

"Their people may come for them."

"Maybe."

"So, what? They won't break? Say where their people are?"

"Kid's a tough son of a bitch." Gabe said. "Picked that walker apart in minutes."

"Maybe a winter in the sticks grew some hair on his balls. But we just gotta push him to brink. He'll crack and spill all the egg yolk for us."

"We may need them for leverage." Bruce said. "What you try to kill 'em for?"

"They pissed me off." Merle hissed.

"That riot gear, it didn't have any police markings." Philip said. "It can't be from a precinct or a military base. What about the other guy, Lee?"

"Haven't talked to him."

"Don't bother, then. Y'all saw that I was ready to leave him with two stumps in the place of his hands. He sure ain't giving up his camp. I'll have to decide what to do of him. And what about the girl, Maggie?"

"I was just about to go talk to her next."

Philip raised a hand. "I'll take care of it."

* * *

Maggie remained dormant in her cell. Her hands were tied behind the back of her chair. Her room was dark, aside from a feeble lightbult that cast a weak, white light onto the steel table in front of her. They hadn't tortured yet. But she spent almost half an hour listening to her boyfriend's grunts and squeals in the adjoining room, accompanied by the bassline of headbutts and punches. Maybe that was her torture. The fear was suppressed within her, but the concern sometimes made her sniffle, a tear forming in her eye. But she held it back. It wasn't the time to sob. That wasn't how she was going to find a way out of her captivity.

The door screeched open. Maggie sprang her gaze towards it. Philip entered the room. Maggie exhaled and shifted her attention elsewhere. Philip stood there for a while, no emotion deforming his visage, his hands posited on his belt. She scratched her palms with her fingernails. The fact that he was stoical tortured her more than having him beat her senseless. He walked over to the table, each step lackadaisical but imposing. Philip stared at the girl. He didn't know what to make of her. She didn't seem too tough, but she wasn't a daisy flower either. He decided to play good cop and bad cop, with him incarnating both roles. He took his knife from his belt and marched towards the girl, taking an eternity with each advance. Maggie cemented her spine and raised her head, eyes locked. Philip sliced the duct tape around her wrists, and strolled back to a chair facing opposite to her. Maggie rubbed her wrists, her heart slowing down but still beating hard. Philip pulled the chair back, his legs slightly bending to sit down, but then he froze. He glanced at Maggie, as if he had committed a crime.

"May I?"

Maggie folded her arms. Was he really playing that game? She didn't say anything. Philip curled his lips and sat anyway.

"Thank you. We'll take you back to your people, explain this was just a misunderstanding. You tell us where they are and we'll drive you there."

"I wanna talk to Glenn."

Philip puckered his forehead and flashed her a sad smile.

"I can't allow that. Your people are dangerous. Left my man up on a roof, alone in Atlanta."

"I don't know anything about that."

"You just tell us where they are and we'll bring them here. You'll be safe. I promise."

Maggie stayed quiet. He was playing games. He knew damn well that she knew they wouldn't be safe. He almost maimed Lee beyond repair and she knew they beat up Glenn.

"No? Fine. Let's try something else." Philip said, deeming it was time to play bad cop. "Stand up, please."

Maggie averted his gaze, remaining inert. Philip's lips bent further down and he perched forward, leaning his elbows against the table.

"Stand up."

Maggie took a deep breath. This time, it was an order. Albeit it was also an order the first time, just coated with fake politeness. She sprang to her feet without taking her eyes off him, the screech of the chair amplified by the silence of the chamber. She counted the seconds in her mind. _One. Two. Three. Why won't it go faster?!_ Philip stared at her, tapping his fingers against his curled hand. Maggie grinded her teeth. _Why is this fucker stalling?!_

"Take off your shirt."

Maggie stared at the man, her brief response being stern and monosyllabic.

"No."

"Take off your shirt or I'll bring Glenn's hand in here."

Maggie sighed. Her breathing grew irregular. Philip grinned. She grasped her tank-top and took it off in quick jerks, as if it were a chore she wanted to get over with. She was left in her bra, her eyes looking forward like a lined up soldier. Philip stretched out his hands, sinking the corner of his lips, as if he was saying, _I didn't tell you to stop._

"Go on."

Maggie hesitated. She was knew what was coming. She could try, but it was impossible for her to brace herself for it. Her glinting eyes blinked faster, but her visage stayed unyielding. She reached for her back and removed the strap, her bra falling onto the table like a curtain revealing a magnificent landscape. Philip relished the view, two rose buds adorned by a vein blue as a river, but the sneak-peek was quickly brought to an end when Maggie covered her sight by crossing her arms. He got up. Maggie flinched, her eyes shellshocked but her whole body gently trembling, her forces dedicated to keeping her body sturdy, despite it becoming out of control, her walls of bravery slowly melting away like caramel. Philip stood there, not moving. _Why isn't he moving? _

Philip took a step towards her, then paused for a second, then another step. Philip reached her after ten seconds. His technique was essential to crack her. Prolong the psychological torture, make her feel like she was forever trapped in this moment like a larva in a cocoon. Like the torture would be everlasting. He was standing just next to her, but her eyes were facing right ahead. Philip slowly slid his fingers through her hair. She flinched, but forced herself to keep up with the soldier stance. Philip caressed her nape, his face leaning closer to her. Chills reverberated in her spine, his hands made of leather blemishing her skin. He drew a deep breath, savoring her fragrance. Awful, as everyone else's, due to the lack of a proper shower. But the fragrance of fear was there, and it released doses of dopamine into his brain. In a sudden jolt, his fingers grasped her neck and he slammed her against the table, a yell leaving her lips.

"So, you gonna talk?!"

Maggie stared towards the wall, her cheekbone pressed against the cold table. Her voice was crystal-clear, devoid of dread.

"You can do whatever you're gonna do. And go to hell."

Philip smiled. She was tougher than he imagined. But just like the black bitch, he was going to shatter her. He gripped his trousers, but then stopped, reconsidering. He felt a gentle soreness between his legs. _My dick is still stiff from the ramming I gave Michonne. _He looked down at the girl, wondering what to do with her. He let go of her. Maggie liberated a silent, yet heavy sigh, almost bursting to tears after her worst nightmare nearly came to fruition. Philip rubbed his temples. _Ah, forget it. I'm not ready for round two._ He was tired from lollygagging all night and not getting any information. But he was going to get it right now.

He had a different idea in mind.

* * *

Glenn paced around the room. He clutched a chair leg in his hand, the edge sharp enough to kill. His impatience grew bigger as it seemed that he would be locked in here for infinity. But at least, the time allowed him to think about his plan. The door would open. Before whoever was there could step in and react, he would rush them and drive the stake through that person's neck. He overworked his muscle memory, each part of his body having its own programming on what to do when the time came. The negative aspect of the waiting was that he started feeling more and more unsure of the results of his plan, and he was sure that if he went ahead with it, he would have to kill someone. Plus, he was in bad shape. His shirtless torso had a trail of blood that streamed down his nose and mouth bleed, and he was blind from his left, swollen eye. He didn't have a lot of strength within him. Yet that plan was all he had.

The doop opened. He brandished the stake with a weak grapple, pain soaring through his muscles. Merle and another guard named Warren marched inside, the latter beaming his pistol at him. Merle raised his index and middle finger.

"Uh-uh."

Philip stomped inside, one hand towing Maggie and the other one gently holding a pistol. However Maggie was topless, her arms wrapped around her naked breasts while sniffling. Glenn pieced two and two in his mind, and his heart boiled with fury. He chipped his teeth and stumbled forward, raising the stake again. However it was evident that a blow from his weakened arms wouldn't even kill an old lady. Warren jolted his gun, as a reminder. Glenn sniffed, his expression wrung like wires and his hands trembling at the fact that he couldn't do anything. He was just a powerless worm. He dropped the chair leg.

"One of you is going to give up your camp." Philip said.

Glenn didn't say a word, the anger latent in his visage aside from a twitching lip, his eyes out of focus as if he was dozed off. Philip marched towards him and beamed the pistol between his eyes. The boy didn't budge, his eyes looking straight ahead towards the barrel of the Beretta. Maggie lurched forward, but Merle barred her path with his arm.

"The prison." She blurted out.

"The one near Nunez?" Merle said.

"Yeah."

"That place is overrun." Warren said.

"We took it."

"How many are you?" Philip said, realizing now why the unmarked riot gear made sense.

Glenn stared with nonchalance towards the cannon of death before him, no strengths left within him and indifferent if he died or not. Maggie sniveled and blinked her tears away.

"Twenty-six."

Philip smiled, holding the gun up for a few seconds before holstering it. He had obtained what he wanted, but he would only be content when he obtained everything else he coveted. Merle and Warren marched out of the room, with Philip walking behind them. He halted next to the woman, remembering himself that he hadn't bidden farewell to his beloved. He turned to Maggie, his hand clutching her side hard. She resisted, pulling away, but he held her in place with strong jerks. She quavered, as if she was being licked by a filthy dog. Glenn's lips convulsed, his legs urging him to stop him. But he was pinned in place, frustration and rage brewing within him, towards the Governor and towards himself.

"Hey, hey. It's okay." Philip said.

Maggie turned her head away, her wet nostrils flaring, as Philip caressed her cheek and kissed her forehead. Philip glanced at Glenn, smugness smeared in his demeanor and defiance sparking in his eyes, like a lion who had proved to be the alpha male and conquered his damsel. _What are you going to do? Are you going to take back your female? You want to. But you can't._ Philip threw Maggie into the room. The two embraced in an asphyxiating hug as she finally broke down into tears, her face buried in his shoulder that shook with each sob, while Glenn stared past her towards the man who was leaving the room. Before he vanished and shut the door, he tossed her tank-top back into the room as if it were just a rag.

* * *

Maggie and Glenn slumped against a wall of their cloister. She had her back parallel to the wall, her gaze sunk to the floor and abeyant, wearing her tank-top once again. Glenn leaned on his side, his eyes fluttering open and closed, drained from any vigor. There was a single question floating in his mind, and he was sure that its answer was wrapped around her tongue, ready to dart out of her lips. He wasn't sure if he was treading on ice or not, but he had to ask it. He gathered the strengths to speak.

"Maggie…did he…?"

"No." Maggie said in a fragile voice, springing her head towards him. "No. But look at what they did to you—"

"Doesn't matter…long as he didn't—"

"No, I promise...he barely touched me."

The couple stared at each with compassion, before holding each other tightly once more. He looked at the corpse of the zombie he killed, stretched out nearby. He detached from her and limped towards the walker. Maggie followed him with his gaze. Glenn held its arm up and stomped its elbow, the bone cracking inside the rotten flesh. He applied more resented stomps, until he had weakened the muscle and he carved into the flesh with his fingernails, sharp from months of not trimming them. Maggie curved her lips at the grotesque view, rising to her feet and approaching her boyfriend. Glenn yanked out a fragment of bone - half of the radius and the ulna connected by a shard of the humerus. He lent it to Maggie. She stared at him, somewhat paralyzed. The vibe of a warrior flamed in his eyes, something that had always been absent within him. But he was ready to pursue this ordeal, if it was necessary. It was visible. Maggie took the bone shard, as the murmurs of a conversation outside reached their ears. They peaked their hearing.

"_So, what do we do about them?_" Merle said.

"_We've got no use for them now. Execute them._" Philip said.

"_What about the nigger?_"

"_C'mon, Merle, that kind of vocabulary seems degrading if we're starting a new world here, don't ya think? K__eep him alive for now. He seems to be Rick's right hand man. Pun half-intended. He might help us make sure the boy-scout stays in line. Maybe we can introduce him as a new fighter as well. The Hand That Feeds. That would make a good fighter name, don't you think? A bit of a mouthful, but still…whatever, just get rid of the love birds. I gotta go get some sleep._"

Glenn and Maggie tensed. Their death warrant had been signed, and now was the time to act. They tiptoed towards the door, bending their knees. A few seconds slipped by, lasting minutes and making their palms sweaty. Merle and Warren waltzed through the door. Maggie shoved Warren against the wall and stabbed him in the neck with the bone shard. His eyes lit up like emergency alarms, a dark crater in his neck spewing liters of blood onto his chest and her hand. Glenn threw a punch at Merle, who skewed aside with a rotative swerve and delivered a blow to his stomach, plying him in two. Warren withered as he slid to the floor, gurgling. Maggie reached for his UZI, but Merle already had his Colt M1911 beamed at her.

"Uh-uh. You know what happens if you reach for that gun."

Maggie considered her options for a second, her eyes shifting between him and the UZI. She had nothing to lose. He was going to kill them anyway. Not grabbing the gun was an assured death, but at least she would die next to her lover, who was sitting on the floor while coughing and gripping his stomach. But if she tried to take the submachine gun, there was the blind faith of a null chance that he would fail his shot and she would succeed. Both paths led to death, so she didn't no anything, delaying her inevitable fate.

"Gonna finish what I started." Merle said, cocking his semiautomatic pistol.

Maggie shut her eyes until it hurt her. But then, a dry smack echoed in the room. She cracked an eyelid open. Merle was stretched on the ground, clutching his redden cheek, while Lee towered above him, his hand curled into a fist. Lee dashed towards his handgun that flew from his hand and took it, casting it at the downed man. Merle growled, a breath seething from between his teeth. Maggie released a long sigh and hurtled towards Glenn, hoisting him up. Glenn shambled towards Warren's corpse and retrieved the UZI from him, slinging it on his shoulder while he passed his Glock to Maggie.

"What the fuck?!" Merle said.

"When you're missing a hand, it's easier to slip out of some duct tape." Lee said.

"Well, now." Merle said, trying to come up with a gag to demonstrate he was in control. "Ain't y'all the diversity trio! The nigger, the Asian and the white bitch!"

"The fuck you're waiting for?! Just fucking shoot him." Glenn spat.

"We can't! He's Daryl's brother! How do you think he'll react once we tell him we killed his brother?!"

"We'll lie to him! We won't tell him about Merle! It doesn't matter! You see what he did to me! To Maggie! And God knows what he did to Michonne and Rick. He didn't stop anything!"

"Don't you think I'd like to shoot him, right here and now?! But we can't!"

Lee looked back at Merle, as he snickered.

"I gotta say, that was a strong hook. You keepin' that pimp hand strong, ain't ya? I'm sure slapping hoes is your trade, but you're too lackin' a pair to fight a man unarmed! Why don't we make this a fair fight?"

"I've had enough of your shit."

Lee nudged towards the door with his head. Maggie crutched Glenn outside and Lee followed in their footsteps, holding his gun up at Merle who chased them with his gaze.

"Worthless black-ass motherfu—"

Lee slammed the door shut, locking the bolt.

* * *

_"Cry me a river." Rick said, holstering his pistol as Dexter's corpse laid dead just a few meters away._

_ "I think that's the last of them!" Daryl said, the horde now just a layer of rotting flesh littering the ground._

_ "Three people who still have loaded guns, I don't care who, need to walk around the yard and make sure no roamers wandered off! Make sure the grounds are safe and clear. And somebody get that fucking door to A-Block shut before more come out. The rest of you, get that gate open and let's start dragging bodies out for burning. It's going to be dark soon."_

_ "Good, but I gotta go back in those tunnels! Clementine's still out there." Lee said._

_ "I know. We're going back down there, now! Daryl, Lee, you come with_—_"_

_ The crying of a baby echoed in the air._

_ Rick held his breath, his eyes bulging out of his cranium as if he was smacked in the head. That crying resonated inside of him, as his whole world fell apart within him like a broken mirror. He turned around. Maggie and Carl limped into view. She was holding a baby in her arms, her knees buckling like a rickety bridge and her face contorted, tears shining from her cheeks and a shaky hum exiting her lips. But Lori wasn't with them. Rick stumbled towards them, dropping his axe. He shook his head. _It can't be. It can't be._ But the truth was written in Maggie's tears. Rick's face twitched as he paced around, a single word repeating in his mind. _No. No. No.

_He could only hear that baby crying. It was the only thing he heard. He did nothing to resist that cry that tormented him and fueled his rage, that was like a haunting of all the mistakes he had done before, and this suffering was his manner of atoning._

* * *

Rick snapped awake. Lethargy weighed down his body as if he were a dead corpse, taking an incredible strength to crack open his eyelids. He lifted his torso, but blades of pain percussed him at once, dropping him back onto the bed he was in. He attempted the same thing again, biting his lip as he dismissed the soreness running through his midsection. His forehead was burning up with a hot sweat. He was in some kind of clinic, the white light emitted by a lightbulb blinding him. Bandages were wrapped around his torso. Memories of what happened returned to him. It was a stupid move. But at least he wasn't locked in that cell anymore. And his first thought was to make a break for it. He untangled from his sheets, his lucidity still hard to grasp, and set his feet on the cold floor. He braced himself for the pain that would come once he got up, and then hopped up. His suddenly-shifting blood pressure stunned his brain and made him see a constellation of stars, consciousness slipping away like a liquid. He crumbled against a medical cart, collapsing to the side and taking the cart down with him, along with the trays of tools and instruments. A young nurse with a doctor coat and her ginger hair tied in a ponytail rushed into the room, drawn to the loud clangs.

"Oh, my God! Doctor Stevens!"

Stevens sprinted into the infirmary. "What is it, Alice?!"

"It's the patient! He's trying to walk." Alice kneeled next to the motionless patient, lifting his head.

"Jesus! He should have been out cold for a few more hours!"

"…where…?" Rick mumbled.

"See if we can't get him back into bed." Stevens said, grabbing Rick by the shoulders.

"I'm trying—"

A fist struck Stevens in the cheek. It was a weak punch, nothing more than a violent spasm, but the surprise sent him to the ground and made his glasses fall off his nose.

"…who are you…?!" Rick grunted, crawling on top of Stevens and pinning him to the floor. Stevens squirmed, but the man was like dead weight, and was too heavy a burden to lift.

"Sedative! Get a sedative! Hurry! Before he hurts himself!"

Alice dashed towards a tray and grabbed a syringe full of fluids. She ran to the patient and drove the needle into Rick's arm, injecting the liquid into his bloodstream. Rick groaned, his slaps becoming limp before he dropped on top of Stevens, their faces touching each other and their lips almost making contact. Stevens turned his head to the side, staring into Rick's eyes that looked towards a void, as he pushed his body back with his hand.

"Okay. Good. Fine. Good. Go get a couple of guys to help us get him into bed."

* * *

Lee squatted behind the door of the warehouse, opening it ajar. He peeked outside. The streets bustled with activity, the carefree townspeople walking around in crowds with the occasional weekend soldiers with a rifle slung on his shoulder, or a green-camouflage truck driving by, with a pack of armed men sitting in the rear enclosure with crates of weaponry and special operations equipments. He supposed the Governor was right. During the night the place was like a militarized fort, but during the day it was just a small town with the charm of the rural South, aside from the military presence.

"Agh, no way out." Lee said.

"Can't we make a break for it?" Maggie said.

"We'd get caught immediately."

Glenn scanned the warehouse, spotting a double door on the back. "We gotta…go through there…"

Glenn highlighted the exit with his index. Maggie and Lee followed his finger indication and jogged towards the egress, keeping their feet light in case of there being other people in the vast building and glancing past their shoulders on occasion, since someone could come in at any time. They snaked around crates and barrels, whose contents could not be guessed. Lee cracked a gap in the backdoors. The exit led to an alcove in a backalley, a portion of the city fence bridging the meters between the warehouse and the adjoining apartment building. Lee stepped outside, telling them to hop over the fence with the aid of a dumpster with a hand motion. Lee peeped around the corner. A guard had a leg leaning at the wall, while smoking a cigarette. He recoiled his head. Glenn climbed onto the fence but lost his footing for a second, making him slip to the other side of the wall. He let our a shriek before he landed on the exterior of the town.

Lee cursed under his breath. Before he knew it, the guard was rushing towards them, beaming his shotgun towards him and Maggie. His pistol was half-raised, but by then the guard already had his shotgun aimed at the two of them, barking at them to drop their weapons. They were caught, but at least Glenn escaped.

* * *

Philip left the warehouse. He adjusted his coat, the sunlight assaulting him. Now all he need was Merle to get rid of the couple, and he would still have three hostages left. With the information having been obtained, he planned to milk as much entertainment as he could from the others. Whether it was some good arena fights by Rick and Lee, or some aggressive pleasure with Michonne. The street marked with apartment buildings unfolded in front of him, early birds already trotting about. The citizens nodded and greeted him as he walked by, and he replied with the same warm greeting. He crossed a mother in her forties, giving orders to her kids with little fervor. The two brothers ran around in circles like headless chickens.

"Kids, please, I need you to stop running."

"Morning." Philip said.

"Morning, Governor." The mother quickly said.

Philip squatted near the two boys, who braked in front of the tall, smiling man.

"You kids slow down, now. Listen to your mother."

The older and lankier boy nodded. "Okay."

Philip rose and glanced at the mother, who flashed him a thankful but fatigued simper. He proceeded down the street, reaching the façade of his apartment building. It was just two stories tall, but he was the only one who lived inside. Nobody could share the king's lair. But as he approached the front doors, he spotted a man drooped against the front of the edifice, his back hunched and a whiskey bottle clutched between his hands. Philip recognized the man with grizzly hair and creviced visage immediately. Bob Stookey, the town drunk, but who had been one of his dearest friends when he was new to the title of The Governor.

"Bob, please. Go get you some food. I hate to see you wasting away like this. We got rid of the barter system. They'll just give you something."

"Fine, okay." Bob Stookey grumbled. "If it'll get mother hen off my back."

"Thanks, Bob. I worry about you."

"Whatever."

Philip entered the building and climbed to the second floor, fishing his keys and letting himself shut the door behind him, the living room showing up in front of him.

"I know, I know…sorry I was out so late, or early, depending on how you look at it."

Philip set his keys aside in a table and turned around. The zombified girl lunged at him, her chain rattling with her impulse. Philip swung his hand across the air, its back striking her face with a loud thud.

"Behave yourself, goddammit it!"

The girl stared back at him with no emotion in her whitened eyeballs. The slap yanked her back, but she quickly resumed to flail her arms towards Philip. He stared down at her. A strand of her raven hair was sticking out in an uneven wave. He reached for a haircomb situated on the coffee table, sighing as he felt some remorse from hitting his daughter. He kneeled next to her, grabbing and lowering both of her arms by the wrists with his large hand, while he combed her hair back to perfection. Her jaws battered, her teeth just a few inches away from the tip of his nose. The rot in her breath had ceased to disturb him a while ago.

"I'm sorry, girl. What's got you so upset? You haven't tried to attack me in months."

He looked towards the end of the room. Her food bucket was toppled over, the guts and blood spilled and soaking the carpet in a puddle that surely wouldn't coming out.

"Oh. No food, uh?" Philip said, picking up the bucket and dropping it near the girl. "You gotta be more careful. If you knock your bucket over it'll roll outta your reach. I raised you better than this. You don't want that, do you?"

The girl answered with a growl and kneeled beside the bucket, her little hands digging into the repast. She shoved a hunk of intestines into her mouth, biting them viciously. But she stopped chewing after a few bites. Her head jerked to the side, an spasmodic exhale heaving the food out of her mouth. A similar human behavior to spitting out bad food. Philip deemed that even the walkers didn't enjoy eating rotten food.

"See, you knocked over your bucket and now your food has spoiled. That's what you get. Even fresh, I don't see how you eat that stuff. Really, I've tried it—it's horrible. May taste different raw, but I'm not going to eat it raw. I'd get you some more food, honey, but daddy's tired. You'll just have to wait 'til I wake up."

Philip walked into the next room, which was a chamber which he had emptied of all furniture. There was only an armchair perfectly positioned in the center, and parallel to it, butted against the wall, was the continuing work of art he had been crafting for a few months now. He dropped into the armchair, the stuffing molding to his shape. He remained with his eyes open for a while, a trace of insomnia, before closing them. But he didn't get far in his attempt to sleep. There was a strong knock on the door, probably his men.

"Fuck." Philip marched to the door. "This better be good." The zombified girl growled as he passed by, as if she was making a witty remark. "Stop it."

He opened the door. Gabe stood there, a bloodied cardbox in his gloved hands.

"What?"

"Here's what you asked for. The two from the helicopter."

"Thanks. Make sure I get some sleep, okay? Don't let anyone else up here."

"Okay. Also, I got some bad news…the prisoners got loose, but we caught them. Got the upper hand on Merle. However the Asian kid managed to get away."

"Are you fucking serious?!" Philip bellowed. "We have to kill him. Tell Merle to chase after him, now! Have him take Tim, Crowley and Gargulio."

Philip slammed the door shut. Gabe stood in the outside for a while, staring at the door, vexed by the rude command. Philip sighed, clutching his nose bridge as he strolled back into the adjoining chamber, the girl following his trail as far as her chain allowed. He felt the necessity to go out there and take matters into his own hands, but he had to take a break. He had to sleep. He cradled the bloodied package in his arms, the girl's milky eyes drawn to it. Philip opened it, wondering if maybe Gabe put in something for her to eat. But no. There was only what he asked for.

"No. This isn't for you."

Philip entered the other chamber, kneeling near the wall that the armchair faced. He opened the package, grinning at the contents. He placed them carefully amid the other elements forming his collection.

"You guys have got guests, new neighbors actually. You two can keep each other company. Agh, gotta get off my feet."

Philip marched back to the armchair and sank in it. He stared ahead of him, marveling at the sight. Fifty-seven aquariums replenished with water were stacked upon one another, a lightbulb inside one of them casting into the water a phantasmagoric, azure glow. The severed, reanimated heads of all those who crossed him adorned the aquariums, their skulls gently floating about. Their jaws wafted with little tenacity, bubbles spiraling out of their mouth cavities, the water slowly eroding them and peeling strips and bits of their aphotic skin. The misery of the purgatory they were condemned to marked their barren eyes. The pilots had their respective place in an aquarium in the corner, and it was just a matter of time before their eyelids snapped open only to reveal yellowed sclera and bleached pupils, welcoming them to what the afterlife was for them.

Philip released a long sigh.

"Fifty-seven channels and nothing on…"

* * *

Bruce booted Lee and Maggie into one of the basement chambers, wrenching the door shut. Maggie coiled into a ball on the ground, but Lee still lurched towards the door, in a futile attempt to catch it while it was open. Maggie imagined a plethora of terrifying scenarios. Glenn was out there, alone, with little bearings and barely anything to protect himself. He wasn't a fighter. Even if the circumstances turned him into one. Lee sneered after their captor shut the door, and slammed his fists against the floor.

"Fuck! We were so fucking close!"

"Glenn, he's out there, alone now." Maggie said, her voice uneasy as she stared to the concrete ground. "What will happen to him...? The walkers…they're too many out there."

"Hey." Lee crouched near her and put his hand on her shoulder, looking her in the eyes but she didn't look back. "You haven't seen Glenn in action like I have. He maybe not always be a fighter, but he's a runner. When Rick and I galloped into Atlanta in the start of all this, he was the one who saved us. He's going to find a way to help us."

Maggie remained untouched by his words. Lee shook his head, hoping his words were true, because Glenn was their only hope of making it out of there.

* * *

Stevens stared at the patient laying in the bed for a while. It had been some time since some strangers showed up at the town, and he thought that he was done patching up the victims of the madman he shamefully submitted to. The irony of it was that Philip was once a newcomer to the town as well, and he still remembered their first encounter. He was in bad shape. Cracked rips, fractured hip, swollen eye, and countless other abuse marks, almost as if he had been sentenced to death by decimation. And at the time, he was far from looking like the monstrous murderer he was. A coward even. He gave Philip a simple advice. _Leave while you can. Chaos theory. You know, entropy. Empires crumble, stars go out, the ice cubes in your beverage melt. Chaos theory determines the impossibility of a closed system to remain stable. This city is doomed. _In a way, maybe it was for the better that he didn't follow his advice. He preferred to be ruled by him rather than the weekend soldiers that were in charge before he arrived, and those fuckers just imposed a dictatorship with no regard for keeping the town running. But that was before Philip blasted their leader by emptying a revolver clip into his body.

Stevens turned back to Alice, leaving his train of thought. "No, no, I totally agree and I also think—"

Stevens perceived some movement from the corner of his eye. He turned to his side. Rick was sitting on the bed, rubbing his eyes. He appeared to be more conscious, his lethargy gone, albeit his side still hurt like a horse had kicked him in the ribs. The two men stared at each other, both wondering if there would be a brawl between the two again.

"Ah. You're awake."

"You the one who patched me up?"

"Best I could." Stevens adjusted his glasses. "Alice here helped a little. You've seen better days."

"Yeah. Am I okay? Is it infected? I got a fever. I feel it."

"That's perfectly normal for someone who's experienced as much trauma as you obviously have. I'm monitoring you. Are you going to try to attack me again?"

"No. Don't think I will. You don't seem the murdering type. You're not really with him, are you? The madman running this place? The Governor. He even got a real name?"

"Philip. His name is Philip." Stevens turned to Alice. "Alice, go get me some more bandages from the storeroom, please. Our patient has me worried of an infection all of a sudden."

"Okay, Doctor Stevens." Alice disappeared out the door, while Stevens turned back to Rick.

"He was a good man. Emphasis on was. We started out as a small group after all this started, we found this town early on. The National Guard station, the narrow alleys, we decided we could defend this place. So we staked our claim. Started out, he was tough but he got the job done. Philip emerged as the leader of our group very quickly. He did what had to be done. To keep people safe. After a while, it was clear to some of us that he was doing this more out of enjoyment than the need to protect us. It was clear he was little more than an evil bastard. I can't even talk about his poor daughter."

"Why do you allow it to go on?! The fights?! Feeding the zombies?"

"What do you think he'd do to anyone who opposed him?! I hate the son of a bitch but I can't do anything. Whatever else he does, he keeps these people safe. That's enough for most people. As long as there's a fence between them and the biters, they're not too concerned with who's with them on the other side of the wall."

"Well said, doctor, well said."

Philip stood at the entrance with a glow, accompanied by Gabe and Bruce. Stevens growled, his rugged face contracting.

"What do you want?!"

"You said you wanted to change my bandage." Philip said, aiming his finger at his bandaged ear. "Bruce, point a gun at the boy-scout over there."

Bruce lifted his pistol that glared at Rick. He didn't plan to try anything. It was a battle that he would lose.

"Sit down." Stevens said. "I'll make it quick. I'm sure you've got important things to do."

Philip dropped on a bed and Stevens took off his old bandage, barely wincing. Rick glared at him and Philip returned him a smug gaze.

"You're looking well, stranger. Healing up nicely? Well, as nice as you can."

"So, when do you start torturing me?" Rick said.

"You? Never. I pegged you from that start. You're not going to say shit. You've got family wherever you're from. You're not going to sell them out. You and your amputee bud. No, I was going to torture the others in front of you. I didn't think you'd crack but I was pretty sure one of them would. But plans changed."

"To what?"

"You're going into the arena. I want to at least get some entertainment out of you. Maybe have you fight to the death with lefty. Friend against friend, turned foes. I'm currently planning on raping the dogshit out of the bitch who took my ear off, until she finds a way to kill herself. And the Asian kid? He's dead."

Rick gasped. "Dead?! The fuck you do to him?!"

"He managed to escape. But Merle and a crew are out there right now, hunting him down. He's as good as dead. Plus, he and his girlfriend told us exactly what we wanted to know."

Rick frowned, his eyes bulging as Philip patted his new bandage and marched towards the door.

"I know everything I need to know about your prison."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: VERY IMPORTANT NOTE! ****Quite recently, me and my niggy TheDomDotCom started making parody comics about each other's stories, and this aformentioned beautiful man with a sexy-ass voice made a few about everyone's favorite ship: Travis x Beth! We made a trilogy, with him making the first two comics, and I did the third one. Links below, I'm going on the assumption that you have more brains than Ben and can use these links properly to access these websites. Tell us what you thought of them!**

**Traveth – A New Day Gone Bye: imgur dot com /gallery/AR2Fm**

**Traveth 2 – Travis Asks Out Beth: postimg dot org /image/9l0m1zttf/**

**Traveth 3 – 18 Parodies Out: postimg dot org /image/rsfwhutk3/**

**Also, I just realized how we've gone past the 300k word count. That is absolutely stunning as a number, it doesn't even feel like I've written that much. I mean, that's probably the length of four books! God, have I spent so much time, effort, and most importantly, words on this story.**

**When we followed Philip into the apartment, I didn't want to reveal the wall of aquariums just yet so I kept it vague, only revealing what was actually there in the end of the scene. Not sure if that came out well or not.**

**Also, Stevens x Rick.**


	66. Hounded, I

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 - WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 66 - HOUNDED, I**

**First of all, extremely sorry for the delay, life's been a mess really, mostly due to time and inspiration constraints. I hope that my entire fanbase hasn't deserted yet xD This chapter will be really short, but I'll try to get the next one out as fast as quickly, which will be a bit longer. I'm gonna be doing all-nighters to get more that 10k words in a few days if it's necessary, I really regret this delay and I promise that the schedule will get back on track! Once again, my apologies.**

**Alright, let's attack the guest reviews. To be honest, why don't you people get accounts? Fucking homeless people (joke). It'd be easier for me to reply to you directly instead of you waiting for the next chapter to receive a reply. Beware of the long-ass author's note that will ensue.**

* * *

**Carl Bellic:** **"Doesn't seem like balance to me. Remember, in Episode 4 or something, where it was mostly Game stuff, it seems like Rick was pushed to the side, especially when Lee told him to stay in the house, even though he is in no position to make such demands to his leader. It's like you could not find a way to fit Rick in the game besides putting him in the original Living storyline (which, by the way, was a great story). And it also probably ruins the relationship between Clem and the other S2 characters, specifically Luke, who was like a second Lee to Clem. So unless you find a way to create the perfect balance of character relationships and development in areas where they were not featured in, I'll still think you should have killed Lee."**

**Answer:** **Alrighty then, I'm loving this here argument, let's pursue it my good friend COOOARL. First of all, correction: Episode 3. Second of all, correction: the first half of Episode 3 was about the farm, and the second half was about the train and Savannah. So no, it wasn't just the game. Also, your argument for Rick having been pushed for the sidelines is very wrong. Lee and Rick are both the pillars of the group, pretty much the co-leader even though Rick mostly takes things in charge. If Lee was going to lead a group into Savannah, then Rick had to stay at the mansion to watch over the remnants of his group. That's just basic survival technique. Someone with authority has to hold down the fort. And the Living arc was inserted so that Rick and the others at the mansion could have a subplot instead of twiddling their thumbs, and in my opinion it braided quite well into the several plotlines we were following, since we were constantly shifting balance between the Living storyling and the Savannah/Crawford/Stranger storyline. Not to mention that when Lee told Rick to stay at the house, it wasn't a "demand". It was a suggestion, one that Rick gladly took in because they are both close friends, and while Rick has power over his people, he sees Lee as his equal and doesn't see himself as his leader, and is willing to take his advice and execute it, if he agrees with it. And it's true that characters like Luke will have different development (did you seriously put Luke on an equal pedestal as Lee's? xD) but this is a crossover, things are going to change which will create a domino effect and lead to other shit changing. And I can't see why you have an issue with the balance, I'm always blending arcs and characters from the different mediums so I dunno. Despite this, I hope you're enjoying the story.**

**Watchmen1985:**** "ok im sorry i made you mad i just thought it would be funny and i didn't know you were not a fan of george a romero im sorry i made you mad and no i will never touch drugs so no im not high but thank you for your reading my reviews/ and also you and your friend did really good on those images i salute you both for making me laugh and how good you two did the pictures"**

**Answer: ****Oh, NO! I'm not mad at all! Jesus, you people need to take things I say less seriously xD. I only overdid it because...because…I WANTED YOU TO NOTICE ME SENPAI! NOTICE ME WATCHMEN1985-SAN! And I am a Romero fan, how can a zombie aficionado not be? He birthed the zombie genre. But you gotta admit, bringing a Romero character into the mix is silly. While we're at it, let's borrow Bender, Forrest Gump and Ted and insert them into the story. "I'll build my own post-apocalyptic community! With hookers and blackjack!" "Okay, Rick-ay." "Just grab your walker buddy and sing these magic words! Fuck you, walkers, you can suck my dick! You can't get me, walkers, 'cause you're just God's farts *fart sound*". Also, I don't plan on Axel and Merle knowing each other, I don't feel like having any characters know each other if they didn't in the original canon. I might make an exception or two to this rule, but that's just a possibility. Also, thanks for showing McFuckSon who's b055 xD**

**McFuckSon:**** "THIS STORY FUCKING BLOWS! YOUR A FUCKING IDIOT IF YOU THOUGHT THIS WOULD EVER HAPPEN! I MEAN JESUS FUCKING MOTHER FUCKING CHRIUST COCKSUCKING MOTHER OF DUMBASS! GOD JUST FUCKING KILL YOURSELF AND BURN IN THE PITS OF HELL!"**

**Answer: Well, shit. Daddy issues, I suppose? Just kidding, my friend by the wonderful name of McFuckSon. Well, if that's your opinion, that's okay, I can laugh at it. Would've enjoyed if you would've precised what pissed you off, but whatever. ****Also, shouts out to my nigga Watchmen1985, he fucking roasted you, mate.**

* * *

The peaceful forest had shifted into a hunting ground. Merle tapped his fingers against the handgrip of his M1911, while the three other fuckwits trailed his footsteps and watched the rear. The anorexic, sometimes veering trees hemmed them in the heart of mother nature, the ground sheeted with an ocean of dead leaves that crunched at each footstep, the treetops swishing with the leaps of squirrels and the departure of birds into the sky. Somewhere within those backwoods, the Chinese kid was hiding with a steaming dump in his pants, pissing himself for his mama. An easy prey, and a pleasant one to kill.

And a prey he would hunt alone, considering the quality of his backup. They were just three kids who weren't made for the hazards of the wildlands, and worst, they didn't realize it. There was Tim, a chopsticks like the one they were hunting, wearing a necklace with a bullet. Crowley, a paramilitary wannabe with a bandana around his forehead. And Gargulio, a puto with curly hair that was barely over eighteen. It was a mystery why the Governor picked such an awful crew. Tim and Crowley were coated with false confidence, but the truth was that Merle had to be there to hold their dicks in place. They traced each step he made and always looked in the same direction as his, following the flow like submissive dogs instead of standing for themselves.

Merle narrowed his eyelids. A few steps away, there were ashen hunks of flesh placed on the dirt. An out-of-place element in the forest. Pieces of cadavers, strips of darkened garments still adorning them. They had to have been put there with a purpose, considering the lack of the remainder of the bodies. Merle marched forward, his squad tightly following from behind. The body parts were displayed in three individuals fragments, the first one consisting of two arms curved in a round form. The second one was an ensemble of legs forming a circle, while the third one was a flipped over torso with no limbs attached to it, the vertebrae of the spine sticking out and forming bumpy hills in the skin. Merle halted, his crew imitating.

"What the hell is this mess?" Merle grunted, twisting the corner of his lips.

"He did this." Tim said.

Merle squatted and nodded while raising his eyebrows, surprised that the kid found the guts to tear off limbs from cadavers and display them like artwork, considering he used to be a squeamish guy. He just kept on revealing himself to have heftier balls than he first expected. Some things did change since Atlanta. He scrutinized the body parts, sure that there was some kind of message encrypted in them. But he didn't read anything legible.

"It means something, the way it's set up all like that."

"The Governor was right to send us out."

"Damn straight, Tim. We're doing alright, just public service here."

"Go back." Gargulio blurted out.

Merle, Tim and Crowley turned their heads towards Gargulio with a quizzical frown, who stared at the maimed limbs with widened eyelids and his head pulled back.

"What?" Crowley said.

"The arms are a G." Gargulio said in a grave timbre, beaming his machete at the limbs. "The legs make an O. And that's a back. It says 'go back.'"

Merle rose to his feet and took a step back. An instinctive, uncontrollable cackle escaped his lips and he clapped at the communiqué made of rotten limbs. Tim and Crowley smiled, more out of the necessity to imitate the pack leader than finding the macabre jest amusing. Gargulio remained austere and drew a heavy breath, a gelid bite resonating in his spine instead of comedy, and their laughter just made his palms sweat even more. Merle turned to the others, a vein in his forehead distended from the grins.

"This is too good! Look at that. He sent us a biter-gram, y'all!"

"I don't believe this is happening…" Gargulio sighed, a tumor in his chest weighing him down.

Merle extinguished his laughter, his glare spinning towards Gargulio, the humor within him vanishing in a heartbeat.

"Hey! Hey!"

Merle marched towards him, scrunching the dead leaves with each stomp, grasping the young adult by the collar and shoving him against the rough bark of a tree. Gargulio paced up his respiration, having lost his breath from the sudden impact, staring at the older man with glinting eyeballs, his lip drooped by Merle's fiery glare and harsh grip, each tendon frozen with fear.

"Knock it off!" Merle said in frustrated, hushed whispers. "What the hell's wrong with you?! Now, the Governor chose you 'cause he thought you were ready. I want you to succeed! I do! But if you keep announcing to the world that you're pissing your pants, I'm gonna have to smash your teeth in."

The two stared at each other in silence. Merle remained menacing and Gargulio swallowed his saliva, his sweating intensifying. Merle's visage softened and he took a step back, letting go of his collar and patting his chest. Gargulio kept leaning against the tree, trying to control his respiration again and mentally recomposing himself, his eyes riveted to the sky.

"Now how do you say your last name again?"

He gulped, regulating his tone so it wouldn't throb "Gargulio."

Merle nodded with little vigor, stretching out the left corner of his lip. Why the fuck was the second G pronounced like a J? Plus, he knew that it would be impossible for him to mimic that idiotic Mexican accent.

"Well, I'm just gonna keep calling you Neil, alright?"

The forest crepitated with the snap of a stick. Merle, Tim and Crowley dashed into a circle formation, their forearms tense from the grip on their handguns, their eyes scanning the foliage. Tim and Crowley caressed their triggers with their index fingers, ready to spit a bullet at the slightest change in the scenario. Gargulio lagged next to them, his stance bent and his eyes snapping in all directions like a scared rabbit, silently cursing under his breath, as his machete became slippery in his sweaty hand. Merle guessed it could be just a walker. But if it were one, it would have revealed itself with no fear of their weapons. It was definitely their prey that was hiding.

"What's the deal, Glenn? Huh? You gonna leap out of the woods? Four against one. All of us armed to the teeth. And you with just your fists?"

They awaited a response.

Silence. The birds twittered.

Igniting gunpowder hammered their ears as a muzzle flash shined among the trees. An array of bullets thumped around them as it struck the dirt or the tree logs, most of the projectiles darting around them haphazardly. Merle sprawled on the ground, glancing at his companions. Tim crumbled to his knees, clutching his neck as blood spewed from his mouth and the gaps between his fingers, while Crowley was stretched out on the dead leaves, his visage pale as he dragged breaths in and out, a bullet hole in the right side of his chest gushing blood profusely. Gargulio pushed his spine against a tree as if he wanted to weld with the log, the bark scratching his nape, hyperventilanting as he watched two of his comrades fall to their demise, not blinking once.

The gunfire ceased. Merle fired seven bullets towards the location of the gun flash, until his pistol just clicked. He heard the Asian kid screaming, before footftalls rustled within the forest, becoming more distant. He was making a run for it. Merle hopped to his feet and sprinted in a mad dash, diving deeper into the embrace of the colonies of trees and simply running, not thinking of where he was going. He didn't hear footsteps anymore, and the boy was nowhere in sight. He came to a halt, panting. The kid was gone for now.

"We having fun yet?!"

Merle stood in his place for a few seconds, glancing around him in the hopes of spotting the kid still cowering in the woods. He sprang around and jogged back to his dead men, knowing that they had to give chase while the trail was still fresh. Gargulio was kneeled next to Crowley, staring down at the man while his hands trembled, whimpering as he breathed rapidly. Merle growled. He conjectured that the kid had Warren's UZI, an automatic SMG with fifty bullets in the clip. It seemed like he wasted most bullets on them, if not all. But the fear rendered Glenn unable to control the wild recoil of such a weapon, and only two bullets struck his men. He was going to be easier to hunt now, especially under the assumption that he had an empty clip.

"Let's go! He's hit! Slowed him down!" Merle said, popping a new clip into his pistol.

Gargulio kept his eyes riveted to Crowley, his hands trembling. "Tim and Crowley, they—"

"We're close to the red zone. Them shots just pulled every biter in this area our way. Let's go! Get up!"

Merle's eyes fluttered about the bodies of his dead men, which seemed to remove a burden from his shoulders. _No dead weight now._ Gargulio stayed petrified, shellshocked and his eyes locked on Crowley, whose eyes were closed and his chest immobile. Merle sprang his eyes back towards the kid, annoyance reaching its peak within him.

"Neil!"

Merle kicked the boy on the torso, making him fall against the dead leaves with his back. Gargulio coughed, his eyes wafting about and blinking to recompose himself. He raised his chest a bit to get up, but Merle pinned him down by pressing his foot down on his rib cage. His eyes now steadily latched on the man's face, who was a giant who eclipsed the sun from his perspective, and whose foot was like an anvil on top of him.

"Now you're gonna rise to the occasion, son! Some serious shit's going down! I need you here! I don't want you to die. You read me, amigo?"

Gargulio held his breath, a cold chill alleviating a portion of his dread. He was a goddamned mess and his emotions were spilling everywhere, but the man's stern instructions calmed him a bit.

"Yes…yes…"

"Get up. Now you know, we never let our own turn. Never."

Merle removed his foot from his chest and Gargulio engulfed a generous inhale, breathing freely once more. Merle slid a combat knife from his belt and approached Tim, puncturing his temple with the blade and pulling it back in a rapid gesture. He turned to Gargulio, who kneeled beside Crowley with a shaky machete in his hand, while wiping the blade against his trousers. He considered maybe just stabbing Crowley to hurry up. But he scratched that option off the list. The kid had to do it. He had to learn to survive and man up.

"C'mon. Just do it."

Gargulio gripped the machete, a whimper escaping his lips the moment he thrust the blade into Crowley's temple. He sniffled, his eyebrows trembling. Merle jogged to his side and patted his shoulder.

"Atta boy. C'mon, let's get going. Good news is, we huntin'. He's runnin'."

* * *

Martinez marched atop the scaffholding riveted to the front wall, his eyes scoping out the horizon. The fence was a rupture between two dimensions. Behind him, the roads were clear from dead bodies or vehicle carcasses, and instead handfuls of people strolled in the sidewalks, their distant conversations bubbling in the atmosphere. The fake utopia. But ahead of Martinez's eyes, the decaying world stretched beyond his eyesight, the ruins of edifices and buildings with shattered windows too numerous to count. No walkers roamed outside the rift. Two guards watched the perimeter from atop two cherry pickers, their assault rifles lazily slumping off their backs, their mouths often enlarging in a yawn.

"Hey, Martinez!"

The calling of his name made Martinez lower his head to the ground below him. Rudy stood there, a former tuck-pointer with a bushy goatee. Martinez frowned.

"What do you want? My shift ain't over for a couple more hours."

"Well, I'm here to relieve you so I guess you're getting an early break. Boss man wants to see you."

Martinez twisted his lips. Being summoned by the Governor himself was never a trivial thing. It usually meant that he had some sort of special assignement to give. Martinez found himself in the same scenario several times, but his mind always started wondering and considering a thousand possibilites for what the big man could want from him. Martinez hopped down onto the concrete, as he passed Rudy his assault rifle.

"Shit. What the hell does he want now?"

"Like he's going to tell me."

"Stay alert up there. It's been quiet today, but that usually never lasts."

Martinez marched away from the fence, while Rudy set a foot on the scaffholding ladder and glanced past his shoulder at Martinez.

"You gonna be watching the fight tonight?"

"Let's see what the Governor wants to see me for first. One thing at a time."

* * *

Rick released a jagged breath, the pain spiking up his chest. He sat on one of the beds, confined by the tiled infirmary walls he had familiarized with, while lifting his shirt and Stevens wrapped a new bandage around his stomach. He rolled his eyes through the room, subconsciously scanning for a window that led to the exterior of the town or a vent, or something. There were no guards in the room. Bizarre, especially if the Governor was concerned about keeping him leashed.

"So am I a prisoner here? I gotta stay in this room?" Rick said.

"I wouldn't recommend straying too far from here for now." Stevens said. "This could get infected or already be infected. I need to keep it clean and monitor you for infection. This is a serious injury, Rick."

"You're telling me? I mean, if I try to leave, are you going to stop me?"

"I am under no such orders. Nor would I follow them if I were. It's not me you have to worry about."

Rick narrowed his eyelids, a somber and guttural sound leaving his throat.

"Oh?"

"As soon as the Governor saw you were able to walk, he posted a couple of goons on the other side of this door. They rotate out every few hours. The door is never unguarded."

Rick drooped his head.

"Damn."

The door creaked open. Stevens straightened and Rick glanced past him. He didn't recognize the man that sauntered into the nursery, with a persistent and confident smile, despite having his arms bandaged and his rugged visage decked with cuts. Stevens threw him an admonishing glare as the man spoke up.

"Well, boys, I hope you're coming to the fight today. It's going to be a thing of beauty, let me tell you. I'm gonna rip that guy a new one for sure. You going to be there, doc?"

"Have I ever been there, Harold?" Stevens sighed. "I'll be waiting here to patch you up and make sure you're ready to fight again next time...despite my protests."

Harold lost his flashing smile and dropped on a bed.

"Fine, fine, geez. Just get this crap off me so I can gear up. I don't want people to see me wearing these bandages. I gotta look tough."

Stevens marched towards him and released a heavy sigh, before Harold hoisted his arm up and Stevens began unrolling his bandaging. Rick turned his gaze away, piecing together that he was an arena fighter. He appeared to be a normal guy, in constrast to the psychotic nature of his leader. But that didn't make him an ally. Harold flashed his smile once more at Rick, who met his eyes with a heavy gaze.

"What about you, fella? You gonna be coming to the fight? It's a rematch. I guess the Gov's having a hard time finding people willing to fight. But it should still be a good one."

"I think I'm gonna have to skip it." Rick casually said, albeit his voice being dead austere.

Harold flapped his hand and snorted, raising his eyebrows, while Stevens continued unrolling the patches in a robotic demeanor.

"Agh, you guys don't know what you're missing. We're going to be putting one hell of a show tonight."

"_Where is he?! Where is that fucker?!_"

Someone burst through the door the second that phrase was shouted from outside. Stevens halted his work and sprang his head towards the entryway, as Rick and Harold turned towards it as well. The bald and muscled ogre standing there had steam fuming through his bulky breaths, his eyes spanned open with a rageful instinct glowing in them. His lips were contorted and revealed toothless jaws, just a magenta exhibitons of gums. His eyes locked on Harold, who withdrew his head.

"Whoa, Eugene! You're getting a rematch! What's your beef?" Harold said, his eyebrows curving upwards.

"What's my beef?! You wanna know what my beef is?!" Eugene yelled, towering in front of Harold. "You fucking idiot! We're supposed to put on a fucking show! You asshole! We get out there, avoid the biters, rough each other up! It's a show! Sometimes we get hurt, sometimes we don't! It's always just a cracked rib! Or some busted knuckles, never something permanent! You knocked out my fucking teeth, you asshole! I'm fucking toothless now!"

"Hey, I didn't mean—"

"Guys, please..." Stevens said.

Harold held his hands in front of him. "Sorry about that, man! I got a little carried away!"

"Sorry just isn't gonna cut it."

Eugene reached into his belt, clutching a knife. His hand swerved in a vector towards Harold, the blade cleaving straight through his neck. A fountain of blood poured from the thick arteries sliced by the knife, as Harold gurgled for air and he staggered back, tripping over his own feet and collapsing on the ground, holding his bleeding wound as more strangled gurgles stammered from his airways. Stevens gasped and took a step back, while Rick erected onto his feet.

"Jesus Christ!" Stevens shouted, kneeling next to the man. "Oh, God. Alice! Where's Alice?! Rick! Help me get him onto the bed. We've got to stop this bleeding!"

Rick dashed to his side, standing above Harold. Rick's lip was slightly drooped, but his eyes didn't bulge at the sight of the man squirming against the seize of death, and his eyebrows hovered only a centimeter higher than usual over his eyes. Harold's eyeballs rolled back in his cranium, the sizzles emanating from his lips becoming quieter and his squirming legs becoming limp. Stevens darted his gaze everywhere, frantically searching for the medical tool who could fix the man while a pool of blood inflated below the head of the dead man. At that point there was no salvation. Rick uttered a single word, bearing no emotion.

"Shit."

Eugene marched towards the door, glancing past his shoulder with a resentful frown.

"Fucker."

* * *

Merle and Gargulio kept marching through the forest, chasing after a trail of footprints left by the Chinese man. His scream during the gunfire could indicate he was struck by a bullet and was hurt, and maybe he was being slowed down by it. Merle often glanced at Gargulio. The kid was still a bit twitchy and probably wouldn't be a big asset in a fight, but there was more certainty in himself as he kept a straight posture.

Another rustle echoed around them, this time much closer. They halted, their eyes darting in every direction. Merle turned around, facing Gargulio. Behind him, deep into the foliage and between the bushes, the barrel of an UZI peeked out at them, held by a human silhouette. In an instinct, Merle grasped Gargulio by the collar and shoved him aside.

"Get down!"

Merle crouched just as the UZI roared for a split second, the bullets flying overhead. But then, he heard the trigger being pulled and only a click resounding. He was right. The kid was almost out of bullets before, and he was out of bullets now. Merle was about to shift onto his feet, ready to give chase since the kid would surely be fleeing, but familiar growls reached his ears on his flank. He peeped to his side. Three walkers with torn garments sagging off their bodies shambled towards him, two steps away.

He shoved the nearest one to the ground, driving a round through the skull of the second one. He turned towards the third one, who gripped his forearm holding the gun and neared its teeth for a bite. Merle careened backwards, lurching his arm away while standing on one knee, tapping his belt to find his knife. His eyes met the bleached snow globes lodged into the walker's cranium, its jaws snapping open and shut. A fleshy thrust was heard, and then the walker stilled its jaws, its moans silenced. Merle shoved the dead zombie to the ground, lifting his head. Gargulio stood behind the cadaver, his machete tight in his hand and dripping blood, his visage determined and not revealing a twitch of fear.

Merle smiled at him, pleasantly surprised with his attitude. He sprang to his feet, looking into the forest. He spotted Glenn vanishing beyond a pack of walkers and deeper into the backwoods, straight for the red zone where the thicker hordes roamed. He was as good as dead. With the job done, all there was left as to return home. Merle stored his pistol into his belt as he turned to Gargulio, a beam in his lips.

"You rose to the occasion, kid! When we get back, I'm gonna get you a beer!"

"C'mon, he couldn't have made it that far!" Gargulio said, aiming his machete towards the woods.

"No, no, no, no. We're done! We're gonna haul ass home. It's been a good day's work."

"But he—he killed Tim and Crowley!"

"Yep. But we messed him up pretty bad. Anyway, he's heading for the red zone. He's as good as dead."

Gargulio sighed, lowering his tone. "What do we tell the Governor?"

"The hell you think we tell him?! Tell him we killed him. Like I said, he's as good as dead."

Gargulio shook his head, his eyes bulging.

"I'm gonna keep going."

"He ain't right in the head." Merle professed between teeth, waving his index finger and thumb fused together in a circle. "He gonna die. Ain't worth our time. Definitely ain't worth our blood. Now let's go."

Merle backtracked a few steps while Gargulio revolved towards him, his words stopping the man.

"You said this was some serious shit! That's what you said! I'm not gonna lie to the Governor about it."

Merle bit his lip, stretching out the corner of his mouth and keeping his back turned towards the boy. He turned around, his face straight and his arm reeled out, an admissive tone taking over his voice.

"You're right. Can't cut corners on this one."

Merle shook his head up and down, rolling his eyes through the boy. A new man stood in front of him. Although he wasn't quite there, he was quickly fleshing out to be a survivor, one that could actually make it out there. His lessons toughened him up, and he was proud at his work in molding the boy into a man. Formerly a child who could barely hold his machete, now stood before him with some solid backbone and his blade ready to kill.

"You've come along pretty quick there, kid."

Gargulio snorted, the condescendence bleeding through his words. Merle deemed that he deserved to be called by his own name instead of his silly nickname. He would even make an effort at pronouncing it, a reward for his rapid evolution.

"How do you say your name again?"

"Gargulio." He said, in a Mexican accent.

Merle nodded. "Gargulio."

Merle said the name as if he tasting it in his mouth. Gargulio nodded, approving of his pronunciation. Not perfect, but good enough. A bird chirped in the distance. Merle glanced at the source of the sound, seeing a grey bird standing on a branch. He nudged his chin towards it.

"Hear that bird?"

Gargulio turned his head around, following his line of sight. Merle whipped out his pistol and fired a single bullet into his skull. Gargulio's brains spewed out from an opening behind his head, drenching his black, curly hair. The gunshot drummed the forest and slowly spread far away, making the grey bird take flight. Merle marched towards the dead boy, his nostrils flaring from the rush as he squeezed his lips against one another. He snatched his pistol and machete, holstering them on his belt.

_It's a shame, kid. You could have gotten far. But you forgot the most important lesson. Sometimes bravery is a necessity, but when it's not, it's stupidity. Hope you'll remember that next time. _

Merle laughed to himself, the foreign name forming around his tongue once more as he strolled back home.

"Gargulio."


	67. Hounded, II

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 67 – HOUNDED, II**

**Wow, guys, I did not expect to have gotten so much feedback in the last chapter considering the brief hiatus! Love you guys so much! Also, I ask of you that you don't reply to McFuckSon's comments, I don't want the review section to become centered around his spam comments. Just ignore him and if he keeps spamming hate comments, I'll delete his reviews. Just do me a favor and ignore him, don't feed the troll.**

**I did my best to get this out as fast as I could to compensate for my hiatus, but this is freaking 16k words. It takes time, and I'd rather take a little longer than post some rushed content. And while I don't mean to suck my own dick here, but seven days is a pretty good waiting time for a chapter as long as this one. **

* * *

**dimmension:**** "hey man great chapter like always but i have a bit of criticism glenn never really kills anyone not till season 6 if you watch the show and almost not at all in the comics. im curious if you're going to have the next chapter of glenn being haunted by the fact he killed people. anyway its your story you can do what you want i just wanted to point that out keep up the good work"**

**Answer:** **True, but since a lot of things change in this story since it's a crossver, we're gonna be seeing the characters evolve differently (without breaking character, of course).**

**McFuckSon:**** "Well shit.. I'm dead. Now I can't FUCKING WRITE THESE FUCKING PITIFUL AND IDIOT COMMENTS IN OTHER FUCKING GOD AWFUL STORIES! FUCK YOU SATAAAANNNNNN!"**

**Answer:** **So you go around and spam hate comments on people's stories? Jesus Christ, I guess you really don't have anything else to do. Just fuck off and don't come back. Your little jest was funny as first, but if you don't stop spamming insults, I'll start deleting your comments. You won't find this review since I deleted it.**

**Carl Bellic****: "[...] Although I was not saying that Luke is like equivalent to Lee, I was saying that him and Clem shared a bond that was CLOSE, although not that close, to the one she had with Lee. And also, how did you react to the Season 7 premiere? [...] Also I enjoy the hell out of your series, so don't worry about that."**

**Answer:** **Well, I'm glad you enjoy the story! It's true that if or when Luke appears, he'll have different dynamics towards Clementine, but he surely won't be neglected. I liked the Season 7 premiere, it was well executed, but I simply don't care about the show anymore, because if I did, I would've cried. I love Negan's central quote in this episode.** **"Bet you thought you were all gonna grow old together. Sittin' around the table at Sunday dinner and the happily ever after. No. That's not how it works, Rick. Not anymore."**

**Watchmen1985:**** "ok since your a george a romero fan i got a funny idea for-"**

**Answer:** **NO. For Christ's sake, people, this isn't a parody or humor story. This is a project I take seriously and it's not supposed to be a brainless crossover between mediums for absolutely no reason. This isn't The Ultimate Showdown (old meme, I know).**

* * *

The prison was submerged in obscurity and insomnolence. The group was slotted into their respective dormitory cells, but slumber was rare among them, their thoughts still stuck on the five people missing amidst them. Clementine curled into a ball in her bed, not daring to close her eyes for too long, as if she feared that monsters would come out from beneath the bunk-bed. The cell was lonely without Lee, and without him laying on the lower bed, she was left in a state of alert. Christa and Omid had asked her if she would be okay on her own. She said yes, despite not entirely meaning it. And now she regretted being by her lonesome in her bed.

_Please come back, Lee._ The day she spent away from him and held prisoner by the stranger left her lost in a treacherous world, locked in a closet until he came to save her. But what if this time he didn't come back? The possibility plagued her, but refused to believe it. He always returned for her. Yet she imagined what she would do without him. He was the beacon that kept the monsters away. Or the walkers. She would have died a long time ago in her tree-house if she hadn't bumped into him, and without him, she just wouldn't have an idea of what to do.

"Hey."

Clementine sat up in her bed, a woman's voice coming from the entrance of her cell. Molly stood there, looking at her in the midst of the obscurity.

"Are you worried about Lee?"

"Yes. Tyreese said they would be back by now." Clementine said in a throbbing tone.

"Look, maybe they just got a little delayed." Molly said, shrugging and faking a smile, despite knowing that it wouldn't reassure the little girl. "You know how it's like out there. Listen, why don't come and crash in my cell tonight? Would you like that? You wouldn't be alone."

Molly felt awkward at asking the girl that question. She wasn't used to the feeling of watching over other people, after the months of on her own in Savannah. But now she was with a group, and a hell bunch of people. Her worry was often placed upon the girl as if she had sworn an oath. Lee had made her regain faith in people, and saved her from the shithole Savannah was. Perhaps that was her way of repaying him. Clementine stared at the woman for a long moment, before nodding.

"Yes...I'd like that."

* * *

Andrea tossed about in her cold blankets, her eyes wide open and floating in the ocean of obscurity around her. Dale was laying next to her, their fondling bodies warming each other up in the cold night. But a cloud of preoccupation poured rain down on them. Andrea sighed, the ubiquitous monotony and silence irritating her, since she couldn't do anything to fight the alarming concern, and she didn't feel like roaming around the prison until she felt sleepy. She turned to Dale whose back was turned to her, raising her chest up by leaning on her elbow.

"Hey. Dale? Are you awake?" Andrea whispered.

Dale revolved towards her, his eyes already open. Despite the both of them being sunk in black, it was apparent that he was awakened as if it was broad daytime. Not a single drop of fatigue weighed down his face, as if he was just lying on the bed with no intention of sleeping.

"Andrea, honey, five of the only people I know to be alive are out in the wild tonight. They're out there in the dark with those things that're lined up outside our fence. If they're not dead already, they will be soon, and there ain't a damned thing I can do about it. So yeah, I'm awake, darling, until the sun creeps up."

"So you're worried about them?"

Dale grinned. "You better be thankful you're so goddamned cute. I'm very worried about them."

"Me too. I doubt I'll be getting a lot of sleep tonight."

* * *

Since Rick wasn't around, Carol had let Carl sleep in their cell. He had taken the top bed, while Sophia slept with her mother. He planted the sheriff hat over his face, which sometimes helped him sleep. Despite the worrisome absence of his father, he wasn't struck by insomnia, like many others probably were. At one moment, Sophia's high-pitched whispers made him perk up from his hypnagogic state.

"Are you worried about your dad?" Sophia asked.

"Not really." Carl whispered. "The others shouldn't be so worried about him."

"Why?"

"Every time my dad leaves me, he goes somewhere but he always comes back fine. If he always comes back without getting hurt, there's no reason to worry."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm sure he and the others will be back soon."

* * *

Tyreese stood at the front gate, his eyes centered on the road leading to the prison. His hairs bristled from the chilling breeze of the night, carrying with it the stench of the dead, but he remained sturdy in his spot. Penumbra had settled in about an hour ago, sparking his latent phobia, but the dark wasn't what frightened him the most in that moment. Each minute that he didn't see a car roll up to their driveway, the same question was set off in his mind. _What happened to them?_ He was sure that they would be reasonable to be back home before twilight. Something was wrong. Walkers, raiders, a broken down car, something. But all he could do was be ready for their return at any minute. His fingers gripped the rhombus-shaped ligaments, prepared to open the gate for his friends.

Footsteps crunched grains of gravel behind him, becoming closer, along with the thuds of something being dragged around. Tyreese didn't budge, still observing the exterior. Axel approached the stoical man, a plastic lawn chair in each of his hands. He glanced around the outer perimeter. Segments of walkers were lined up at the lateral fences, like always, their moans drowning out the chirping of the nightly crickets.

"Hmm. Getting dark." Axel said.

"Yeah." Tyreese bluntly grunted.

"So what are we supposed to do now? I mean, it sure doesn't look like they're going to be back soon. You follow me?"

"Well, we're going to need to stay out here until they get back. If they come back in that car we need to be here to open the gate before those corpses pile up around them."

"Well, I got these lawn chairs."

Axel put the two chairs a few meters away from the gate, dropping his hefty build on one of them. Tyreese walked towards him and sat on the chair next to him, venting out a burdensome sigh and rubbing his hair, his eyes ever looking towards the road. A slight frustration disturbed him like the obscurity surrouding him, erasing any trace of somnolence from him. The two men stared ahead, as if they were casually watching the sunset.

"So, we stay out here all night?" Axel said.

"If we have to. I don't want them to be trapped out there if they do come back tonight. You up for it? You gonna be able to stay awake?" Tyreese said.

"You think I've been around these fuckers long enough to get comfortable enough to go to sleep a few feet away from them? Not fucking likely, you follow me?"

"I do, I do. You won't see me nodding off. The smell alone will keep me up. Plus, I'd like to be awake and have that gate open for them if they come tearing down that road."

"You worried about them? Michonne? The others?"

"Do I wish they were back? Absolutely. Am I worried? No. Not even a little bit. Rick and Glenn can hold their own. Rick especially, and he's not about to let Glenn get hurt. I respect the man. Maggie is a tough cookie, and Michonne is fine. She was out there alone for so long, I don't think she'll have any trouble spending the night out there. My only real concern is what's holding them up. What was at that helicopter that's keeping them?"

"Fuck if I know. Y'know, some folks've been talking about moving to A-Block. Y'know, it'd be less crammed. More space. You going to move?"

"I dunno, maybe. I'm still paranoid one of those hordes might find their way into the prison. You can never know. I guess I prefer having the group in one place, in case some shit goes down. And you?"

"Don't know yet. Thinking about it. To be honest, I'm enjoying just having the option. I was a prisoner here. It's weird how different this place can become just by sleeping with the cell door open."

"It's a new world, man." Tyreese chuckled, leaning closer to him. "Imagine how weird it must be for us to live in a prison and call it home. We're sleeping in rooms with bars on one wall. All we see all day is fences and bars and we're happier than we've ever been since this whole shit started."

"I was never out there." Axel said, lowering his head and straightening his smile. "I was never in danger, hunted, terrorized by those things. I was in here before they came to life and started killing people. And I was in here after. So yeah, it's a new world. But God help me, I like this world better."

Tyreese stiffened in his chair, his smile dying out as well. He turned his stare towards the walkers. It was hard to agree with what he said, and he didn't plan to. He didn't say anything else and looked towards the road once more. His eyes widened and he leaned forward, narrowing his eyelids. He immediately detected an anomaly amidst the silhouettes of the trees and the scattered corpses lurking in the distance. Someone was running towards them, his feet almost tripping over one another as he spun his head to his sides in a frenzy, a few walkers magnetized to him. As he came nearer, Tyreese managed to make out that he was familiarly bald.

"Shit! It's Glenn!"

Tyreese sprang off his chair, tipping it over, and sprinted towards the gate. Axel turned his eyes towards the road, perceiving him and chasing after Tyreese. Glenn almost lost his strengths and his buckling knees gave in. In an instinct, he propped himself off the ground with his palm. His thighs and calfs were burning, but he forced himself to go just a couple of extra meters to be home free. Tyreese opened a short gap in the gate.

"C'mon, Glenn! Get your ass in here!"

Axel surveilled the walkers that converged to the entrance. Glenn jogged inside the perimeter and Tyreese pulled the gate shut once more, while Glenn crumbled to his knees and injected sharp huffs into his stinging lungs. Axel kneeled next to him, holding his shoulder while Tyreese rushed to his side. His mind was assaulted by a dozen questions. Why weren't the others with him? Were they alive? But the kid could barely breathe. They heard him gasp oxygen into his system, barely enough to feed his pounding heart.

"You okay? You hurt?!" Tyreese asked.

"I'm…I'm fi..."

Glenn ceased his sentence as he huffed in more breaths. Axel flicked his eyes over his thigh, noticing a narrow, bleeding scrape in his padding.

"You got shot?" Axel asked.

"Yeah...yeah..."

Glenn gulped his saliva, his respiration easing as his heart slowed down, the sweat in his forehead and around his orbits shining in the darkness. Tyreese grabbed him by the armpit and hoisted him up.

"Where's everyone else?" Tyreese said.

"I'll...I'll tell you in a minute...the others in the cell block?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Then let's go...everyone needs to hear what happened..."

* * *

Glenn sat on the perch stairs, clutching the skim of the bullet on his thigh. His unexpected arrival had awakened everyone, despite most of them being already awake. The group amassed in front him, some of them still in their underwear and t-shirts, eyeing the Korean man as they waited for him to tell them what they needed to know. Daryl was already dressed and had his crossbow dangling off his shoulder. Clementine rushed towards the man, an alarm stamped on her visage. Molly stood behind her, her mind pressing her to ask Lee's whereabouts.

"Is Lee okay?" Clementine said.

"He's fine, Clem. They're alive." Glenn said.

Clementine hunkered her head and her expression softened, releasing a long sigh. Christa and Omid set their hands on her shoulders, glancing at her with a concerned look.

"What the hell happened out there?" Christa asked, turning her gaze to Glenn.

"We followed the chopper." Glenn said, drawing heavy breaths. "Found it crashed in the woods. The pilots were taken, we followed a trail. It led us to this town. Woodbury. It's led by this fucking guy who calls himself the Governor. Pretty boy, charmer, Jim Jones type. Whole town's full of paramilitary wannabes. He tortured us to find out about the prison."

"Did you spill your guts?" Kenny asked.

"We had no choice...they were about to kill us."

The group sank back into silence as they analyzed the information. Kenny folded his arms as his eyes capsized towards Clementine. From the start, Lee was the only one that he had been able to call a loyal friend. Many times he had been bitter towards him, but he always stood by his side. He helped him when his wife had her brains spilled on the grass and his boy was infected. And he couldn't let another family be separated. _Especially when it comes to a good friend._

"Then we're gonna get them back. Right fucking now. Who's in?" Kenny said.

Daryl raised his hand. "You got it, I'm good to go."

"I'm going too." Molly said. "We might need to be sneaky, and that's what I'm good at."

"I can tag along." Tyreese said.

"You'd better hold down the fort here. Your hammer isn't going to be useful against armed thugs." Kenny said, turning his gaze towards Vince. "You good to come?"

Vince glanced towards him, letting out a frustrated sigh and shrugging. He didn't feel a strong allegiance to those people, and he was sure that the sentiment was shared the other way around. Being forced to put his life on the line for them made his curse in his mind. But if he wanted to assure that he didn't get his ass kicked out on the wilderness...

"If you want me to..." Vince grumbled.

Daryl nodded at his group. "Then it's settled, then. Glenn'll comme with us after he's patched up, show us the way."

* * *

Glenn barely felt his legs, the fatigue rendering them numb. He sank in the mattress of his cell, which was vacant without Maggie. Bruises and small gashes blemished his face, dormant from the phantom pain of Merle's fists. Hershel sat next to him, his two crutches leaning against the wall, while her rubbed wet cotton on the man's wounds and applied a band-aid on the cuts. Glenn kept his word and didn't tell anyone about Merle. Daryl had to be focused on saving their friends, and his mind would become rash as he would do anything to reunite with his brother. Or perhaps he wouldn't. Maybe his loyalty to his brother had changed after being split up for so long. But he couldn't be sure of that.

Hershel cleared his throat, as if he searching to spark a conversation. The silence remained. Glenn stared into a blank, calculated breaths enlarging his nostrils, and sometimes his fists coiled and squeezed the mattress. Something was deranging him. It wasn't just the mental torture of his close ones being in danger. There were morsels of anger bleeding through his body language.

"You'll be sore for a while. But it will heal." Hershel said, as an ice-breaker. "I know I was not favorable towards what you and Maggie had, before. I appreciate you looking after her. If anything were to happen to her...and the same thing goes for you, Glenn. You're like my son."

Glenn glanced at him, before his stare turned back towards a void in the wall. He remained unaffected on the exterior, but his words attenuated the weight anchored his chest and alleviated the tension in his muscles. Being hunted in those woods, his life depending whether or not he made too much noise with each step, left his brain overheating, like it always did in every close shave he faced in the past.

Always those same thoughts. _My life almost ended. _One wrong move and everything could have been over. _And if I had died, what am I leaving behind? What am I leaving for Maggie? Have I been the man she deserves? _Every stressing thought came down to the same thing. Maggie. She was the reason he refused to give in when he was being tortured or being shot at in the forest. He would kill for her, if necessary. Maybe he had already done that, when he fired at Merle and his goons. But the adrenaline made things blurry in the heat of the moment. He didn't make out if his bullets struck them or not, since his grip on the weapon was so weak and he barely controlled the direction of the gunfire. He sniffled, feeling a tear slide down his cheek.

"When I was held prisoner...I was ready to kill them...those fuckers who tortured us...for what they did to me and Maggie...they hunted me down...I might have killed them, I don't even know...I'm pretty sure I did...I just hope that...that doesn't change me...I just hope that I'm still what Maggie needs. I'm what Maggie wants. What she deserves...I don't wanna become something she despises..."

Hershel grasped the man's shoulder, sturdy but compassionate, lowering his head to catch his gaze.

"I know for a fact that Maggie does not regret what she shares with you. And you wanna know something? Neither do I."

Glenn nodded, sniffling and mouthing a thanks, despite the word not making any sound. Hershel wrapped his arm around the boy, who sank his head into his shoulder and wiped his eye, barring the shedding of the remaining tears welling in his eyes. Hershel rubbed his arm.

"Don't ever let this morbid world make you think that you are a bad man, Glenn. No matter the things you're forced to do."

* * *

Tyreese had fetched a green Hyundai from the parking lot, which had its keys in the ignition. The vehicle would be necessary for them to get to Woodbury as fast as possible. The night would be a menace and would turn their trip perilous, but it would also the perfect veil to hide them once they snuck into the town. Daryl yanked the trunk of the car open, tossing a backpack inside, its metal contents rattling. He turned back to the group who was huddled in front of the prison building.

"I got the flashbangs and I got the tear gas. Never know what you're gonna need."

Carl hauled a massive bag of ammunition towards the car with both his arms, the weight hunching him back and slowing his pace. Daryl rushed to him and took the bag from him, throwing it into the vehicle.

"Hey, don't you worry about your old man. I'll keep my eye on him."

Carl nodded with secluded emotion, tightening his lips. He jaunted away while Daryl verified their inventory. Kenny and Vince loaded several clips for the four M4 assault rifles they would use. Glenn lingered in the passenger seat, waiting for them to finish the preparations. Molly strapped her pickaxe on her back, sliding on her hoodie. Someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned around. Andrea flashed her a smile, holding her Anschütz sniper rifle sideways.

"You should take this. It's reliable, and you might need it."

Molly raised an eyebrow as Andrea passed the sniper rifle into her hands, getting used to the weight of the weapon.

"You know how to shoot, right?" Andrea asked.

"Who doesn't, nowadays? I'm not perfect, but I manage. Thanks."

Andrea patted her shoulder with a grin. Molly slung the rifle on her back.

"Be back safe."

Kenny slid the final bullet into his clip, tucking it in his belt. He reached for another magazine and more bullets, from the ammo box placed in the backseats of the Hyundai. He glanced at Vince, who did the same repetitive task as him. Kenny saw his reaction when he said that he wanted him to come along. He seemed annoyed. He didn't appreciate that attitude. He had barely done anything for the group so far, and he acted like he didn't want to be at the prison. He noted that he should be wary of him during their mission, in case he decided to shit all over their plans for his own sake.

"We might dive into some thick shit when we rescue our people. If you turn tail and run—"

"You think I'm scared of a fight?" Vince snorted.

"I think you might be more than willing to treasure your life over one of ours. We gotta be able to rely on each other if the bullets start flying."

Vince snorted again, shaking his head. Kenny narrowed his eyebrows.

"Can I trust you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get your panties in a bunch."

Daryl hung his crossbow over his shoulder before walking towards Lilly. The woman folded her arms, bags under her eyes and the corners of her lips constantly moored low.

"Stay safe." Daryl said, patting her shoulder.

Lilly let out a sad chuckle. "Nine lives, remember?"

Kenny finished another magazine, before raising his eyes towards Hershel. He hobbled towards him, with Beth and Billy chaperoning him, their visages tensed by concern over their older sister. Hershel looked at Kenny, before nudging his chin towards Glenn.

"Keep an eye on the boy. I don't want anything bad happening to him."

Kenny nodded. "I won't let him get hurt. Y'all take care of everyone and little Judith."

Hershel clutched Kenny's palm with both his hands, his voice with a faint shake.

"Bring them back."

Kenny sternly nodded with his gaze locked on the old man, as if he was making a promise without using words. Vince put their M4's in the trunk before closing it. Kenny went into the driver's seat, his friends crowding in the backseats. He twisted the keys in the ignition, as he glanced at Glenn. Raw pain emitted from his brutalized face, but his empty gaze signaled that his thoughts distanced him from his environs. Tyreese and Travis opened the gate. Kenny stepped on the accelerator and they drove off.

* * *

Philip and Merle marched within the warehouse, in the tight hallways where the storage compartments stretched out on the wall to their left. They headed to the storage unit where Michonne was kept, the last one, with Merle holding her sheathed katana. He had just come back from hunting the fugitive that slipped through their fingers. Even though Merle had been one of the latest arrivals to the town, Philip trusted him more than Gabe and Bruce combined. He was fearless and didn't mind doing all sorts of nasty, dirty shit. He wasn't scared easily, even by the big Governor himself, but he remained dutiful to him nonetheless.

"So, did you handle the Asian kid?" Philip asked.

"He's zombie chow now." Merle said. "Although he took out Tim and Crowley out, and Gargulio too."

"Meh, who gives a fuck? They were expendable. As long as the kid is dead..."

Philip reached for the bottom of the storage door and lifted it, the rusty hinges creaking. The dimly-lit room was enlightened, revealing Michonne to be in the same position, her arms and legs tied to the walls. She raised her head weakly, one of her eyes swollen into a violet blob, her eyebrows pressing down at the sight of the southerner villain and his dog. Philip squatted in front of her and she lurched her head forward, her teeth snapping, a fingertip's length out of reach of the man's neck.

"Right, you're going to bite me. And then what?" Philip smiled. "How do you think you could get outta here? Ya should just stop strugglin'. Things would be so much easier on you. Besides, last time you almost broke your wrists. We don't want that, do we? So for your sake, I'd appreciate it that you'd just give it a rest. But enough about tha'. We've got a bit of a problem. And I need your help."

Michonne's glare persisted towards the man, through her only unbeaten eye. There was no shift in her vibe. Philip chuckled. Always bearing a reactionless poise, as if he was talking to a brick wall. _Always playing tough._

"I've got a fight in the arena. A big one, a lot of people supposed to be comin'. And I just lost a fighter. I need a replacement, and I want it to be ya. Before you start spoutin' out that you would never do anythin' fo' me and ask me who the fuck I think I am to ask you anythin', I want you to consider one thing. I'm in a position to make your life easier. Hell, a bullet is in the position of makin' your life easier. But still, I can help you. I don't want you to lose sight of that. Merle!"

Merle gave the sword to Philip. He unsheated the blade and rose the katana in the air, a reflection of light illuminating the blade. Michonne sprang her gaze towards the katana, a brief spark of interest emerging. However her visage remained crisp. Philip waved the katana in the air, as if he was getting a feel out of it, remarking her sudden attention. Something tied her to that katana. It was the only thing that seemed to yank a reaction out of her.

"I'd like to give you this. I'm sure you'd like to have this too. You're gonna be fightin' in the arena against a man. To the crowd, well, you're gonna have to appear you have the advantage. People don't like watchin' guys beat the shit out of girls." Philip smirked, shaking his head. "I know, I really don't get it either. If you're comin' at him with a katana though, it'll be okay for him to clip you a good one with a baseball bat. In return, you get a full week of rest, and food, and maybe even a chair or a bed. I'll have to look into it. To be honest, our relationship has been pretty exhaustin'. I need a break. This is okay, because I'm still pissed off about the ear, but I feel like I've already gotten a bit of payback. And well, the fella you're fightin' tonight could kill you."

Philip stood up. She didn't follow his gaze.

"Oh, and I don't want you to kill this guy. That's the secret we don't really tell people. Our little arena fights are more than a little staged. The danger with the biters is there, sure, but you're not really supposed to hurt your opponent too much. A few gashes here and there, sure, we can handle that. But nothing more. Or the deal is off. You don't have to decide now. You have twenty minutes."

Merle and Philip walked out of the unit. Philip glanced past his shoulder, trying to decipher her thoughts. Just the same stoic glare riveted on him, like a carrion crow with an empty stomach, thirsting for flesh.

* * *

Rick stared at the coagulated pool of blood staining the tiled floor of the infirmary. One of the big bad wolf's goons had hauled out Harold, leaving a trail of dripping blood leading to the door. Alice was tending to a woman who sat in one of the other beds, bandaging her arm, which had a fissure of blood stretching through her forearm. The woman, who had curly, raven hair with dark eyes, had come in earlier and only flashed a frowning glance at Rick. She was abnormally pale, as if she was sick. He hadn't paid much attention to the conversation between her and Alice, but he overheard that a bandit sliced her arm pretty badly while out on a run. Alice prescribed her a few pills to fight off the infection provoked by the wound, and he identified her name, Karen.

Rick focused on escaping that damned town. He wished he hadn't pursued his search for the helicopter pilots. His friends told him so, and so did his instincts. The promise he made to Carl. People are trouble. They always are. _The last time I make this mistake._ Now they were held captive by a madman, and he had no idea if Lee, Maggie and Michonne were alive. Philip said Glenn was dead. But before he saw it with his own eyes, he wouldn't believe it. The rebel within him urged to get on his feet and burst out the door, rushing for an escape route. But his more sensible side kept him anchored to the bed, clutching his burning midsection.

Martinez walked through the door. Rick sprang his glare towards him, a bitter growl forming in his throat.

"Doc? Doctor Stevens?" Martinez said, looking around before looking at Rick. "Hey, man, have you seen—? Oh, hey, you're...what was your name again?"

"Rick..."

Martinez widened his eyes, seeing his bandaged stomach. "Oh, my God, man. What the hell happened to you?"

Rick dilated his nostrils, clenching his fists to hold him back from punching the man, his words coming out like hisses.

"An accident."

"What?! How?! Did someone do this to you?"

Rick sprang from the bed and grasped him by the collar. Martinez withdrew his head. Alice and Karen turned their eyes towards the two men disrupting the monotony in the room.

"Shut the fuck up! You handed me to that psycho! You fucking did this!"

"Woah, hey—"

Stevens barged into the room, stepping between them and shoving them apart. Rick let go of the soldier and backed up, wincing as his wound shot pain up his midsection. Martinez frowned and recomposed his vest while Stevens shifted his glare between the two of them.

"Stop it! Stop it right fucking now! C'mon, Martinez, you need to leave."

Stevens conducted Martinez towards the exit with a hand on his back. Martinez stared at Rick past his shoulder, who was shooting flames at him with his glare, his head tilted down and fiery breaths whirring through his nostrils.

"What's with that guy? Is he okay?"

"Don't worry about him." Stevens said. "What is it that you wanted? You were looking for me?"

"Our fine Governor called me here to ask me to talk to you, said you didn't seem too happy here." Martinez said, turning his gaze at Stevens. "He knows we're pals. He just wanted me to make sure, I dunno, you weren't going to cause any trouble or any problems. He wants to make sure you're happy."

Stevens snorted, folding his arms and glancing back at Rick with a suspicious gaze.

"Does he now?"

Martinez nodded with feeble confirmation. He peeked at Rick, before leaving the infirmary and shutting the door behind him. A heavy conscience struck him and he leaned his back against the wall, lowering his head and pinching his nose bridge tightly.

Rick dropped back on his bed, rubbing his temples and slicing breaths between his teeth, his muscles stiffing from his painful injury. Alice and Karen turned their attention away from Rick and resumed their conversation. Stevens adjusted his glasses. Usually, the Governor was more subtle when it came to his manipulation games, but this time it was apparent why he wanted him to be "happy"_._

* * *

The bleachers of the arena were crammed with families and friends, almost the entire town congregated to watch the spectacle their leader had prepared. Philip climbed the stairs towards the upper walkway, where the control booth was, a smile sketching in his lips as he observed the fervent excitement of the townspeople, anticipating the brawl. Gabe, Merle and Bruce followed at his heel. Six walkers were already chained to the perimeter of the fighting field. Lively conversations reverberated in the stadium, filling their ears.

"Quite a turnout, eh?" Philip said.

"Yes, sir." Bruce said, in an automatic speech devoid of nuance.

A bearded man who was sitting in the bleachers turned around to Philip, waving at him.

"Hey, boss! Better be a good one today!"

"Don't worry, pal. It will be. I promise." Philip said, taping a confident smile to his lips.

Philip and his bodyguards reached the walkway. He leaned on the railing, his smirk cast upon the arena like a lighthouse overwatching the sea. The repeated and ruthless abuse had domesticated Michonne, he was sure. She wouldn't dare to disobey him, knowing the brutality that would ensue if she stepped out of line. She wasn't the first piece of sugar that happened to be a tough cookie he had dealt with. She cracked, like they all did. Now she provided entertainment for him, until her feeble body couldn't go on no longer, and her corpse would feed his biters while her head adorned his aquariums.

"You sure about this, boss?" Gabe asked.

Philip extended his smile. The gates on the right opened. Eugene Cooney marched into the arena, suited with riot gear minus the helmet, a baseball bat tight in his grip. The crowds hopped on their feet and clamored. The chains jingled and the biters groaned, their arms stretching towards the bulky man like tigers roaring for a feast. Philip grinned, thinking that maybe the townspeople were the beasts craving a feast. _They're so fucking twisted_. The gates on the left opened. Michonne marched into the arena with the same potency and determination of her adversary, albeit each step rendered her legs sore and shot a needle of pain up her midsection, her face numb. The poncho swung in her neck, her katana riveted to her fingers and torchlight shining off her blade.

"This is going to _good_." Philip said, emphasizing the last word.

"I don't mean to doubt your judgment, Governor." Merle said. "But you think she'll be obedient? She don't strike me as the kind that can be tamed."

"Don't worry, Merle. The chance to see this bitch get a beating without me breakin' a sweat? Yeah, I think it's a good move. Here we go."

Michonne and Eugene neared each other, the encouraging screams heightening in crescendo with each step. The fight had officially started. Eugene swung his bat towards the woman with mechanical velocity as he brayed a war cry. Michonne dodged with a swift rotation, crushing his groin with a kick. Eugene bent in two, his baseball bat slipping from his grip and an exhale bursting through his lips. Michonne elevated her katana and downed the blade with the precision and rapidity of a guillotine. Her sword cleaved through his neck, his cranium rupturing from his body. His head rolled on the ground, his face frozen and wrung in a spasm of pain and shock. His body collapsed, with a stump of layers of exposed and crimson flesh in the place of his neck, the vertebrae visible in the middle, spewing blood onto the dirt.

The crowd went silent and gasped, their anticipation for an exciting spectacle immediately ending in a powerful anticlimax. Vehement booing quickly replaced the silence, directed towards Michonne. Philip withdrew his head, reeling in his smile and twisting his lips, his teeth grinding, fury stilling his expression.

"What. The. Fuck?!"

He sprang around towards Bruce, Merle and Gabe, his voice now turning into yells.

"Get down there and rein those biters in! Get her the fuck out of my sight! I swear I'm going to kill that bitch!"

Michonne didn't change her mindset. _Kill. Kill_. The walkers were turned in her direction, their arms reaching for her, their jaws snapping harder at the sight of fresh blood spillled upon the grounds. Like in a ballet choreography, she pivoted around and thrust her blade into the eye-socket of the nearest walker. Michonne proceeded to attack the other zombies, precisely terminating them as if she was just pulling a kill switch. Her katana cleaved through their skulls or cut through their necks, her feet leading her to next zombie before the cadaver of the previous one withered on the dirt. The townspeople kept booing, further fueling her instincts. She chopped off the last zombie's skull, before a mass of force tackled her to the ground.

She fell on her stomach, her cheekbone scraping against the pebbles and her body turning sore from the impact. She looked up through the corner of her eye. Merle pressed her down to the ground with his knee. She grasped her katana, but Merle pinned her wrist down with his foot, making her grip on it spring loose. He took the sword, making Michonne growl like a rabid dog. Philip clenched his fists atop the walkway, his visage neutralizing but his fury latent within him. A woman with her two children in the crowd turned towards Philip.

"Hey! Hey, you son of a bitch! What the hell was that shit?! I don't bring my boys out here for that! I bring them for some clean fun! That was a goddamned massacre! I don't want my boys watching a fucking murder! You've traumatized them! I came here looking for some broken bones, a little blood maybe, not this!"

Philip remained inert to her words. He turned around and walked down the stairs.

"Hey, are you listening to me?! Hey! Goddammit! I'm talking to you! Don't walk away from me, get back here!"

* * *

Kenny slowed down the Hyundai until it braked. The dense forest surrounded them from each side, which promised to be a precarious hub of walkers. Glenn had guided them along the way, and he claimed that the creek bed with the crashed helicopter should be within the forest, but the trees now became too condensed to advance with the car. Kenny took a semiautomatic pistol from his belt, passing it to Glenn.

"You stay back here and wait 'til we come back with the others." Kenny said.

"What? I should go with—"

"No. You've ran all night, kid, you're beat. We're gonna need to be fast in there, so you can't come with us. Lock the doors and get out of sight so the walkers won't spot you."

"How much further away is Woodbury?" Molly asked.

"Maybe thirty minutes on foot." Glenn said. "Maybe an hour. I'm—I'm not sure. Beyond the forest, you'll find a road with a sign. It should say Woodbury on it."

"Where are they being held?"

"In a warehouse. That's all I know."

"Okay, let's get movin', then." Daryl said.

* * *

Philip marched into the warehouse, down the corridor with the storage units. He headed towards the last one. His right-hand men stood outside the storage door, with Bruce holding the katana in his hand. Merle remained straight and austere, while Bruce and Gabe frowned as they sensed the rage of their leader from afar, fearing it would crumble upon them. Each footfall was like a thunder, his fingernails dug into his palms. Philip looked at the storage unit before looking at his henchmen.

"Well?! She in there?! Did you get her back in there?! Is she tied up?! Well?!"

"We got her in. Wasn't easy though." Merle said, retaining the desire to say a 'I told you so'.

"Whatever! Just—I just—gimme that!"

Philip snatched the katana from Bruce. He paced around in circles, his fingers white from the strong grip on the hilt of the sword which he waved around, steam discharging from his nostrils. Bruce ran his hand through his bald head, his frown stiffening.

"Sir...?"

"Where does that bitch get off?! I told her I'd go easy on her! I just needed her to do this one favor for me! One favor! She agreed to fucking help, she agreed! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! We had a fucking agreement! Talk me out of walking in there and fucking killing that woman! I've got to round up new biters for the fights! I've got to find new fighters for the fights! Fuck! Fuck! That fucking bitch! Fuck! Fuck!"

Philip kicked a dent into the storage door. Bruce and Gabe took a step back, their eyebrows curving above their widened gazes. Merle folded his arms and pressed his tongue against his cheek, his eyes nailed to the floor. Philip let out a growl before yelling an order to his men.

"Open it up! I wanna see her guts spill all over the floor, dammit!"

Bruce and Gabe hastily nodded and hurtled to the door, unlocking it and raising it an inch. Philip pinched his nose bridge, his brain in a battle between his rational side that tried to dominate his primitive and wild rage. Another order from him stopped Bruce and Gabe from raising the door, but this time his tone was lowered and calmer.

"Stop! Close it."

"Sure, boss...but why?" Bruce said.

"I'm going to...I'm sleeping on this one. I don't want to do anything I'll regret later. I gotta go over all the angles. I'll be back in a few hours. Meanwhile, you three come with me."

* * *

Kenny, Daryl, Molly and Vince traversed the forest, each one of them with their eyes open and surveilling each direction for any walkers. They had M4 assault rifles in their hands, with Daryl carrying the backpack with the grenades, and Molly had the sniper rifle of her friend slung on her shoulder. They dispatched the few zombies that crossed their path with their knives, or with Molly taking them down with Hilda. Once they reached the road Glenn told them about, a sign directed them straight towards the city. The trees and foliage quickly disappeared behind them and soon they found themselves amid the ruins of fast food joints and apartment buildings, immersing them in the center of a hospitable small town now turned into urban wreckage.

Two spotlights shined beyond railroad tracks. _Woodbury. _They snuck their way towards one of the train wagons which was left abandoned in the middle of the tracks. Peeking from behind cover, they analyzed the façade of the town. The front wall was an erection of metal sheets nailed together, with two armed guards standing atop cherry pickers and two others manning spotlights on top of military trucks. The broad light swept the surroundings, constrating off the dark night and illuminating the silhouettes of the vagabond walkers roaming around the town, which was followed by a gunshot by the guards and the shadow of the zombie collapsed on the asphalt.

"Front way's a bust. Not a big surprise there." Kenny whispered.

"What's the game plan?" Vince said.

"We need to find another way in." Daryl said. "It's packed with guards here."

"They fenced off the town in the middle of the streets." Molly said. "That means that they had to fence off the alleways as well. Those are less guarded. Probably."

"Good thinking. Let's go around, then." Kenny said.

* * *

Philip stood behind the desk in his living room. Bruce, Gabe and Merle stood a few steps away, since Penny was chained close to her father and her swollen, grey hands were reaching for them, her ecstatic bellowing keeping them at a distance. Merle had gotten used to the presence of the girl, whenever Philip let them in his apartment, but Bruce and Gabe were still freaked out by her. Or it, perhaps. They tried to omit her sound and presence, but their gazes often fell upon her. After all, they had a walker in the room.

Philip rarely invited his men into his apartment. It was always for business, never for camaraderie. But since it was his private space, and so rarely seen by others, he believed that whenever he required his right-hand men to execute an important task, the honor of stepping inside the lion's lair would reinforce their loyalty and their work. In that occasion, the person who concerned him the most was Merle.

"So, how are the two prisoners?" Philip said.

"Bo-Peep and the nigg—the African-American individual?" Merle said. "Still locked in."

"Right. They sure as hell aren't of any use, now. After we're done here, kill them. But we gotta start worrying about their group."

"You think they might be a threat? That they'll come for them?" Gabe said.

"They must be. And if Rick and his band of cripples managed to find us, they might too. The girl said they were twenty-six. I'm more interested in that prison. What once kept prisoners in, now keeps biters out. There's one near Nunez, but I don't know its precise location. But a prison...if they cleared it out..."

Philip turned to Merle, who met his gaze. Philip locked his stare.

"This group with your brother at its core might have found one of the safest places against the biters. And if they're coming for their group..."

Philip circled around his desk and approached Merle, until the two men were standing in front of each other. Tight and slightly intimidating. Merle drew a breath and straightened his posture.

"Your brother might be out there right now, searchin' for them. Blood is blood, right? Makes me wonder where your loyalties lie."

Merle raised his chin, his tongue rolling through his teeth. He measured his answer carefully. He knew that there was only one response that would be valid to the Governor, and he was loyal to the town and Philip. Nothing would change that. Nothing. But his brother was different. He was far from a saint and he often conspired alongside the devil. But Daryl was where he drew the line. Merle's eyes wafted towards the window, his mind imagining his brother standing outside the city walls, with an assault rifle in his hands and ready to attack. He turned back towards Philip, who was sharply staring at him, and a single word left his lips.

"Here."

* * *

Daryl aligned the scope of his crossbow with the torso of the guard standing behind the alleyway fence. He loosened his elbows but stiffened his shoulders and biceps, readying for the recoil which would be as potent as a bull's kick. He emptied his lungs, ceasing his respiration, and he squeezed the trigger. The arrow sprang from the tiller and struck the man in the left side of his rib cage. They heard a low gasp coming from the guard, then a thump as he plummeted from the dumpster he stood on and onto the concrete. Vince sketched a grin.

"Sweet."

"It's a damn shame we can't get any suppressors on these rifles." Kenny said.

The quartet hotfooted in a crouching stance towards the alleyway fence, their eyes focused on their flanks. Daryl halted in front of the fence and interlaced his fingers into a cusp, holding them in front of his waist.

"C'mon, up and over."

Kenny placed his foot on his hands and Daryl boosted him up. Kenny grasped the ledge and swung his legs over the fence. Molly and Vince followed after him, dangling their hands afterwards for Daryl to climb up. Kenny turned his eyes towards the end of the alleyway they were in. The streets were lit with torches and devoid of fervilous activity, with an occasional guard or two that strolled by, bearing heavy gunpower. Open areas weren't an option.

"We can't go out on the street." Daryl said.

"I could probably climb onto the rooftops." Molly said. "But I'm not sure you guys could..."

"Forget that. We'll move from building to building." Kenny said.

Kenny headed towards the door on the left building, the rest of the crew following him from behind. He slowly revolved the handle and opened a crack in the door, peeking inside. With the light that came from two windows in the front of the edifice, he perceived several rows of shelves with canned goods, bottles and boxes of rice, spaghetti, and a whole diversity of food. A stockroom, with nobody inside.

They slithered inside, closing the door behind them and walking towards the windows. Kenny peeped between the curtains, while Molly checked for other doors that led to the next buildings. Kenny thought that perhaps if they marched confidently in the street, with no sign of suspicion, the other guards would conjecture they were one of them. But the idea quickly left his mind, since most of them wore camo vests and trousers, along with fingerless leather gloves. The lack of clothing with military insignia would make them stand out.

"We gotta move. Anyone comes in here, we're sitting ducks." Kenny said, putting some distance from the windows.

"See the warehouse?" Daryl asked.

"Nah, it must be further down the block."

"I'd say we could split up, but I don't think we _should_ split up." Vince said.

"Hell, no. Things go haywire, we gotta be together." Kenny said.

"Kenny's right on that one." Molly said.

"It was just a sugges—" Vince said.

Footsteps thumped outside the front door, each one becoming louder and closer. Their heads bounced towards the door, their heartbeats ringing in their ears while their spines froze. Kenny cursed under his breath, waving a brusque hand signal at his companions. They scurried behind a row of shelves, peeking between the food cans as someone revolved the door handle and entered the stockroom. A man with dark skin and a shaved head walked in, his head darting around the stockroom. Molly grabbed the handle of her pickaxe, while Kenny slid his knife from his belt.

"I saw ya movin' from outside." The man said with a low voice. "Now, you're not supposed to be in here, and y'know it. So come out, or I swear I'mma beat yo' ass."

The man advanced through the room, slowing down each time he glanced between the shelves. He got closer to the one they were hiding in. Kenny leaped out of cover and grasped the man by the neck, pinning him against the wall with his knife kissing his Adam's apple. His eyes clasped on Kenny, and he didn't resist, his brain still prcessing what was going on.

"Get on your knees, now! Hands behind your back!" Kenny spat.

The man kneeled down and intertwined his fingers behind his nape. Daryl, Vince and Molly got on their feet, surrounding the kneeling man. Kenny squatted next to him and stared at him in the eyes, receiving a fearful gaze from the guard.

"Where are our people?!" Kenny said.

"I don't know!"

"There's a warehouse in this town! Where is it?!"

"J—just down the block! Three buildings away from here!"

"Okay, thanks for the information. But now you aren't worth a shit."

Kenny inserted his blade into the man's throat. His eyes snapped wide open, his vocal cords undulating and forming gurgles as blood jetted from the wound, flooding his airways. Kenny looked away, avoiding his ghastly gaze and yanking his knife from his neck. The man sprawled on the ground, emitting a few more suffocated burbles before he went silent, a pool of blood forming beneath his head. Kenny wiped the blood on his hand on his trousers, while none of his comrades grimaced at the sight.

* * *

Lee paced around the cell. Maggie was sitting against the wall, in the corner. He tried to come up with an idea for what they could do, but each time came to the conclusion that there wasn't much to do. They would be more careful handling them and they couldn't ambush them like before. He thought about Clementine, wondering how she was faring with his absence and hoped she hadn't gone out of her way to try to find him, like when he went searching for a boat with Kenny and Daryl in Savannah. He prayed under his breath that Glenn was okay and made it back to the prison, and with a bit of hope and faith, his friends were marching to Woodbury to save them.

The door was opened. Merle, Gabe and Bruce marched inside, their pistols and rifles beamed at them. Lee backed away, but Merle marched towards him and shoved him onto his knees, sliding a bag over his head. Shumpert fetched Maggie and made her kneel as well, sliding her head into a bag, making her squeal.

"Let me make this clear." Merle said. "You're gonna be joining your Chinese friend soon enough."

* * *

Kenny led Daryl, Molly and Vince into the basement of the warehouse, their light steps silenced in the stairs and their guns at the ready. They backed their backs against the wall, hearing conversations. Kenny peeked around the corner. He got a glimpse of three guys inside one of the cells, their backs turned towards him as they dragged Lee and Maggie out of the cell, their heads covered by bags. Kenny nodded at Daryl, who fished a smoke grenade from his backpack. He toothed out the safety pin and tossed it into the hallway.

"What the—?!"

The explosion muted the sentence as the smoke imploded within the room, bubbling with coughs. Kenny, Daryl and Vince stepped into the smoke. Kenny touched Lee's shoulder, recognizing the texture of his shirt and lugging him out, while Daryl grabbed Maggie and guided her outside the room.

* * *

Philip strolled back towards his apartment building, carrying a card-box with crusty blood stains on it. The nocturnal sentinels that crossed him greeted him with a nod, and he greeted back, before they resumed their job of watching over the town. Philip had been somewhat glad that Eugene killed Harold, since he was running out of food for Penny, but his death led to him putting Michonne in the arena, and that led to that shit-storm of a fight. He sighed as he reached his door step, shaking his head as if he tried to unshackle those thoughts from his mind. Things couldn't get worse. Could they?

Before he reached out to the front door of his building, the thuds of hurried footsteps reached his ears. He turned around. Merle, Bruce and Gabe were running down the street, heading towards him with urgency stamped in their visages. Philip reeled in his lips and set down the box with the flesh, already anticipating another fuck-up from them. His three henchmen stopped in front of Philip, leaning on their knees as they panted.

"Oh, for fuck's—what did you fuck up this time?!"

"We got waylaid, Gov'." Merle said. "Their group...they're already in town. Smoked us, took the couple."

"Shit!" Philip growled. "Come with me, you retards!"

Philip stomped towards the front wall with his henchmen following after him, recomposing themselves. The men standing guard on the fence turned to the Governor, with Martinez among them.

"We've got intruders in this town! I want you people with your eyes peeled on that fence! Shumpert, go spread the word to the other guards! Merle, Bruce, you start checking for them in every building and household! They could be holding families hostage, or hiding in another building! Gabe, go gaurd Michonne's cell.

The respective men nodded at their chief before heading off to execute their assigned tasks. Philip waved a finger at Martinez. He climbed down his cherry picker and walked up to the Governor.

"Yes, sir?"

"Their group took their people with them. Except for Michonne. You go to the infirmary and handle Rick." Philip said. "And, Martinez...you know what you have to do."

Martinez nodded and sauntered away. Philip was now left alone. He rubbed his chin, a pointy question plaguing his mind. _How did they get here so fast? _They had been held captive for a single day. Their would have surely waited longer to make sure they didn't return. But even if they had been searching for them, Rick and his crew had traveled on foot, so there were no tire tracks to follow. The smoke from the crashed helicopter had probably vanished at that point, so there was no landmark to guide them to the town, or at least so quickly. A few days would have been necessary to track them down.

He raised his head, his jaw dropping slightly. The answer was before his eyes. Merle had told him that the kid was dead. Yet a few hours after he "killed" him, their group had showed up at their small town. The only way they could have gotten there so fast was if they were led right to it. And only one person could have done that. The kid that was supposed to be killed. Philip coiled his fists. His most loyal man revealed to be the worst one. And he would make him pay.

* * *

Rick lounged on his bed like he had for so many hours now, simply getting acquainted with the tiled walls of the infirmary. The wound that held him back appeased his thoughts of a violent escape, but the possibility still lingered on his mind. Karen was laying on another bed in the corner, while Alice sat next to Rick, changing his bandage. She often yanked the tissue too hard, the scorch of a prickle striking his side and making him wince. Her touch wasn't thoughtful. Hard to believe she was a doctor. Hell, perhaps she wasn't. Most likely a medical amateur.

"Darn it, I could use a nap. I haven't really slept much in days." Stevens said, rubbing his eyeballs and disappearing into a backroom in the infirmary.

Rick turned to Alice. "So...what's with you two? You guys...?"

"Together?" Alice chuckled. "No. I think he wishes we were, and honestly, he's a nice man. Very nice, actually. And I do like him. But I don't care if it is the end of the world. He's too old for me."

"So you're..."

"Single? Yes. But I'm not looking for anyone and you've got a ring on your finger, I—"

Rick lost his faint smile and hunkered his head, sinking into a pit of pain for a split second. The marks of regret instantly wrested Alice's visage, but taking her words back was now impossible. Rick sniffled, holding back a tear.

"Oh, is your wife still alive? I'm so sorry that—"

"You couldn't have known."

There was a long silence, an awkward atmosphere caving in and effacing any traces of the pleasant small talk they were having.

"I got a newborn child."

"Really? A boy or girl?"

"Girl." Rick said. "I was just trying to make conversation. I wasn't...so, you're a doctor too? A nurse? Paramedic?"

"Actually, I was going to college to become an interior designer when the biters, zombies, whatever, made other plans for me. I didn't really know any of this stuff a year ago."

"But now? How did you learn to do this stuff? Doc Stevens taught you?"

"Mostly, yeah. I've always been a quick learner, too. Ever since I was a little girl. I really just have to watch him do something once, or twice, and I can do it."

"Well, I'm impressed."

Alice knotted his bandage and got up, standing in front of him and folding her arms. Rick raised his head at her.

"Don't be. I don't consider paying attention to something special just because others don't do it." Alice said, pausing for a moment. "Did that sound mean? Did it make me sound like a bitch? I'm sorry, I do that a lot."

"I didn't think anything of it. Don't as well. I'd even say you're right. Most people cruise through life so caught up in their bullshit, they don't notice what's around them." Rick let out a sigh, looking elsewhere. "Like me...I didn't pay enough attention to Lori..."

Martinez burst through the door. He leaned against the doorpost, breathing heavily with a bead of sweat sliding down his forehead. Karen opened her eyes from her nap and looked at what was going on, while Alice stared perplexed at the man. Rick's lip twitched at seeing him again, resisting the urge to lash out at him again. He marched towards Rick with an MP5K in his hand, which seemed tiny compared to the bulky man who grabbed Rick by the shoulder.

"Rick, get up! Now! C'mon, we've got go!"

"Wha—?!"

Martinez hoisted him onto his feet, but Rick jerked his shoulder back, ridding himself of his grip.

"What are you doing?!"

"I'm saving your life!"

"What do you mean?! How?!"

"Your group infiltrated into the town, took your friends with them! Philip has the streets on max surveillance, looking for them. And I'm getting you out of here!"

Rick stared at him, paralyzed as he scrutinized the information, a cold chill of relief coursing down his spine. _Thank God_. Martinez reached for his shoulder again, but Rick withdrew his arm, still bitter towards the man.

"Let go of me!"

"Okay, okay." Martinez said. "It's just that we need to hurry. It's not going to be easy to get you out of here without anyone noticing. The few vehicles we got gassed up aren't an option. We gotta be way far away when they notice we're gone, if we don't want them catching up to us."

"But wait, they told me there are guards posted at the door. How are we getting past them?"

"I already took care of them."

Stevens marched into the room, his owl eyes behind his glasses posited on them. "What in the hell is going on?"

"We're getting the fuck out of here. You got three seconds to decide whether or not you'll be tagging your asses along with us." Rick said, turning to Karen. "That counts for you too."

Stevens squeezed his chin and lowered his head, the neutral gears in his brain silently working. He looked back up at Rick.

"Give me a minute to gather some supplies. Alice, come help me."

Alice nodded and walked into the backroom with Stevens, where they kept all of their medicine. Karen winced as she struggled to get on her feet, her skin pale and the bandage on her forearm turned into a maroon hue from the dried blood. She leaned against the wall, staring at Rick and Martinez with glassy eyes. Rick didn't want to bring her back with them, but he would rather have her tag along with them than stay and run towards the Governor and snitch about what they were doing.

"Wait...you're just going to leave like that?!" Karen said.

"You're welcome to join us." Rick said. "Trust me, that guy, the Governor, his charm is just a ruse. He's a murderer and a psycho, no matter how much he doesn't look like it."

"Fuck." Karen mumbled, her gaze falling to the floor. "I think I always knew that he was like that. Count me in, then."

Rick turned to Martinez. "You're telling me that Maggie, Lee and Michonne were rescued by my group?"

"Yeah. However the Gov' didn't mention them taking the girl with the katana."

"Fuck. You know where she might be?"

"In the warehouse, maybe." Martinez said, before letting out a long sigh. "I heard rumors, whispers, talk-talk...about what he was doing behind the scenes. I didn't want to believe. It gave me a reason not to do anything. But I couldn't let it go on anymore. I had to stop this madness. We're still human, goddammit."

Stevens and Alice came out of the backroom, with the doctor hauling a duffel bag over his shoulder that rattled with pill boxes and medical supplies.

"We're all set." Stevens said.

"Then let's go." Rick said.

"Also, I managed to get this for you." Martinez said.

Martinez took out his Colt Python from his belt. Rick snickered and grabbed it.

"Nice, thanks."

* * *

Kenny glanced around the corner. There were no guards marching around the block. The coast was clear. He jabbed his to his friends before stepping out into the street. Lee and Maggie walked with their knees bent close to the façade of the buildings, while Vince and Molly kept their guns brandished and their eyes darting in every direction, expecting a guard to pop up at any time. They reached the stockroom once again. Kenny opened the door and his friends rushed inside, before scampering inside himself and shutting the door.

Lee drew a heavy breath as he leaned on his knees, wiping his forehead. He was sure that his luck had ran out when Merle came to execute them. He straightened himself, only to be met by Molly's arms that wrapped around his neck in a tight enfold. Maggie sprang towards Kenny, a new spark of hope within her as she became assured that her lover was fine.

"Kenny, how did you find us?! Did Glenn get back safe?!"

"Glenn made it back and told us."

"He's okay?!"

"Don't get all emotional, now's not the fucking time!" Vince said.

"You guys hurt?" Kenny asked.

"We're fine." Lee said. "I appreciate the rescue."

"Not gonna let a brother die if I can help it." Kenny smiled.

"How's Clementine?"

"She's doing okay. Glenn's out in the car waiting for us. Whole group's waiting for us to get back. Don't wanna keep 'em waitin'."

"Damn right. They'll be waiting for ghosts if we don't get the fuck out of here!" Vince said.

"Y'all know where they got Rick and Michonne?" Daryl said.

"No." Lee shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but it's packed out there." Kenny said. "We can't go back for them, we just gotta hope we provided a distraction good enough for them to escape."

"What?! You're saying we should just leave them behind?!"

"There are guards everywhere, Lee." Molly said. "Rick and Michonne weren't with you. We can't just go from house to house."

"When we smoked those guys, they were alerted. They know we're here." Kenny said. "Look, Lee, we'll come back for them once the dust settles, but now it's too bad out here."

Lee let out a long sigh, contemplating on the choice for a moment. It pained him to leave his brother behind at Woodbury, but that was the best option at the moment. If they got caught or killed trying to find him, their efforts would be in vain. Lee swore that he would come back for him as soon as he could. He could never leave Rick behind, no matter the cost.

"You're right. We need to leave, now." Lee sighed, turning to Daryl. "You okay about your brother?"

Daryl quirked his eyebrows. "Merle? What's anything got to do with him? What you talking 'bout?"

Kenny raised an eyebrow as well, faintly remembering the white-trash asshole that he wished he could have sucker-punched back when they lived in the Atlanta quarry. Lee frowned for a second, wondering why Daryl didn't understand what he was talking about. He froze, realizing that Glenn had done what he said he would do. He hadn't told him about Merle. _Shit._ But now his words had slipped from his lips.

"Uh...nothing."

"Nah, hang on a sec. What'd you mean by that?" Daryl said, marching towards Lee.

Lee sighed. _Looks like I don't got a choice. _"This was Merle."

"Merle?" Kenny said. "You mean...?"

"Who the fuck's that guy?" Vince said, but his words went unnoticed.

"Merle is alive, and in this town. It was him, he did this." Lee said.

"You saw him?!" Daryl said.

"Face to face. He was gonna execute us."

"S—so my brother's this Governor?"

"No, it's somebody else. Your brother's like his lieutenant or something." Maggie said.

"Does he know I'm still with you?" Daryl said.

"They know everything. The Governor was about to kill Glenn if they didn't talk." Lee said.

"Yeah, he told us that. Fucking great. Now this guy is gonna be rolling up with an army on our doorstep!" Kenny said.

"Hey, it wasn't his fucking fault!" Maggie said. "I was the one who told him."

"This doesn't matter. We got more pressing matters." Lee said.

"We got a car a few miles out, we get there and we're home free. We can wait for the dust to settle and come back for Rick and the urban chick." Kenny said.

"Hey, if Merle's around, I need to see him!" Daryl said.

Daryl took a step towards the door, his visage softened and his eyes glowing with the hopes of a reunion. Molly and Vince stood around, making sense of their conversation and who Merle was. Kenny stepped in front of the door, barring Daryl's path.

"Not now! We're in hostile territory."

"He's my brother! I'm not gonna—"

"Look at what he did! Look, we gotta—we gotta get out of here now!"

"Maybe I can talk to him, maybe I can work something out—"

"No, no, no! You're not thinking straight!"

"We need you if we get overrun by walkers or if this Governor catches up to us." Lee said.

Kenny clutched Daryl's shoulder, his gaze turning back towards him.

"Are you with me?"

Daryl hesitated before nodding, his voice lowering.

"Yeah."

* * *

Rick didn't place his entire trust on Martinez, but he knew his way around the town, and he could only be blindly faithful as he led him along with the other three down the dark hallways of the warehouse. At each corner, he repeated the same routine. Halt and backs against the wall. A glance around the corner, verify that no one was around before proceeding. Once they reached the rows of storage units, Martinez saw Gabe standing guard in front of Michonne's cell.

"What do you suggest?" Rick asked.

"Everyone here knows me. I'll go on, call you guys up when I'm finished. Wait here."

Rick felt like objecting, but like before, he had to swallow his suspicions towards the man and let him take charge of their exfiltration. Martinez strolled around the corner, beaming a casual smile at Gabe. The fat man turned towards the soldier with a smirk, glad to have some distraction while he was assigned the boring mission of guarding the Nigerian bitch.

"Hey, what's up, Gabe? He got you protecting the gold reserve or something?"

"Heh, not exactly. That bitch who fucked up the fights is in there. She's a pisser, that one. Boss man ain't taking any chances."

"Think I could have a look? Just a peek. Didn't get enough a good look at her at the fight. Seemed hot."

"Oh, yeah. She was hot. After the beating the Governor threw her tough, she ain't—"

Martinez lurched his hand towards his neck, his fingertips daggering his windpipe. Gabe crumbled onto his knees, his eyeballs bloating in his orbits. He clutched his asphyxiating throat, gargling strangled breaths. Martinez took the rifle from his back and held it like a spear, hitting Gabe in the temple with the stock. Gabe became silenced and passed out on the floor, with a bleeding gash in his skull that turned his ginger hair redden.

"All clear!" Martinez said, prompting the others to come out into the hallway and head towards the last storage unit.

"Geez..." Karen said, grimacing as she looked at Gabe's unconscious body.

Rick and Martinez squatted in front of the storage door, grabbing it by the handles and lifting it. The dented door resisted, making them grunt and wrest it around until the door was raised high enough for them to enter. Michonne squinted as the light bathed her, seeing a silhouette approaching her. She spat at him, squirming. Rick took a step back, examining the symbols of abuse in her visage.

"Whoa, Michonne. Hold it. It's me. It's Rick."

"...Rick...?"

"Martinez, help me get her untied!"

Rick and Martinez put their fingers to work, untying the knots on the ropes that restrained her wrists and ankles.

"Are you okay?" Rick asked.

"No...not even close."

"God...the Governor is worse than I thought..." Karen said.

Michonne caressed her wrists as she was finally free from her restraints. Rick predicted that they needed to carry her, or that at least she would be limping and would need one or two of them to crutch her. But instead of that, Michonne erected to her feet with a straight posture and marched towards the exit. Rick spanned his eyelids, stunned that her physical condition wasn't affected by the immense scars and bruises. A scorching fire of fury seemed to benumb everything that was holding her back. Before he could ask her if she was really okay, her words quickly cut him off.

"Let's get the fuck outta here."

* * *

Kenny, Daryl, Lee, Molly, Vince and Maggie huddled behind the double door of the stockroom, readying themselves for their hasty getaway. Molly passed an assault rifle to Maggie while she gave her Glock to Lee, the only gun he could hold with one hand. Kenny glanced to Daryl, who had a smoke grenade in his hand, sure that thoughts of his brother still clouded his mind.

"We gotta be quick if we gonna get over the front wall." Kenny said. "Now."

He opened the door, peeping outside and spotting two guards on the front wall. Daryl threw a smoke grenade outside, which reverberated clangs throughout the street as it struck the asphalt. The grenade flared a thick fog that engulfed the whole road, while guards began screaming orders at each other, announcing the position of the enemy. Kenny jerked his head to the exit.

"Go, go!" Lee said.

The six of them ran outside, raising their weapons at the height of their eyes. Kenny aimed at the guards on the wall and gunned a spree of bullets towards them, the bullets sending their bodies to the ground before they could perceive them within the smoke. Pairs of guards rushed towards the smoke, taking cover behind trees, benches and parked military trucks, firing blindly into the fog. Vince and Maggie thundered the offensive line forming in the street with arrays of bullets. Lee aimed his finger towards an alleyway between two buildings, knowing that they needed to get out of the open.

"In there! Take cover!"

Maggie and Vince ceased their gunfire, backing away into the alleyway along with Kenny and Lee. Daryl slowly took steps back before standing down on one knee, the line of sight of his assault rifle pointing at the guards, his finger glued to the trigger. Molly looked down the scope of her rifle, aiming at one of the guys shooting at them. The scope wobbled unsteadily from her fastened heartbeat, but she fired anyways. She hit the guy in the shoulder. She cursed as she yanked back the bolt, a cartridge ejecting from the rifle. The smoke began to dissipate into the nightly atmosphere, clearly revealing their positions. Daryl paused his gunfire, reloading his weapon.

"How many of 'em?!" Vince shouted.

"I didn't see!" Kenny said.

"Don't matter, there gonna be more of 'em! We gotta move." Daryl said.

Maggie stepped out the alleyway, raising her gun, but a bullet struck the corner of the building, spitting brick dust onto her face.

"Shit!" Maggie shouted.

"We got any grenades left?!" Lee said.

"Yeah!" Daryl nodded.

"Get 'em ready, we gotta gun into the wall!"

"You guys go ahead, I'mma lay down some cover fire!" Daryl said.

"No, we gotta stick together!" Maggie said.

"Too hairy. I'll be right behind you. Ready?!"

Daryl hopped to his feet and threw another smoke grenade, reactivating the smoke shield with a sharp explosion. He cannonnaded the enemies with fire, while Vince, Kenny,Molly, Maggie and Lee ran to the wall, unable to see their enemies. Their ears were drummed and deafened by the omnipresent gunfire, smoke waving out of the barrels of their heated guns. Their running seemed accelerated by adrenaline, seconds burning by much faster. Vince climbed onto the roof of one of the military trucks that was butted against the fence, lending his hand to Maggie. But the second she stepped on the hood of the vehicle, a scorching fire ignited in his midsection. He howled, falling to the side as he clutched his chest. He raised his head with a stiff neck, barely hearing Maggie screaming. Three shotgun pellets had struck his left ribs, tearing the tissue of his jumpsuit shirt and gushing blood.

"Agh! Son of a fucking bitch!"

Kenny stood atop the roof of the second military truck, firing at the defenders of the town. He ceased his gunfire, glancing to his side. Vince was curled on top of the other truck, his shirt soaked in blood and scars of pain on his expression, while Maggie frantically tugged his arm, trying to get him on his feet. _Fuck! _Kenny turned his eyes back to the battlefield, firing without thinking. The fog began to dissolve once more, turning into a feeble mist. Daryl remained distant, on his knee and providing cover for them. Lee was about to climb onto the truck, when a nearby silhouette popped up in his peripheral vision. He sprang his head to the side, seeing a guard penetrating the mist and raising his shotgun at him. Before he even moved his hand, a hole was drilled into his forehead and his head snapped back, with a spurt of red cerebrospinal fluid. He turned to Molly, his rifle-totting savior who confidently smirked at him, as if she was saying, _You owe me._

But her smile died the instant a projectile perforated the lower region of her stomach. She drew a pained breath, falling to her knees and dropping her sniper rifle, clutching the bullet wound. Blood quickly oozed between her fingers, her field of vision becoming distorted. Lee hung his jaw, hurtling to her side.

"Molly!"

Lee kneeled next to her and wrapped her arm around her neck, slinging the sniper rifle around his shoulder. He hoisted her up, taking a glance at her wound. Her yellow jacket metamorphosed into a sticky, crimson garment as the blood drenched the tissue. Her chest bounced up and down at an increasingly faster pace. Lee guided her towards the truck, her footsteps becoming weaker and weaker, with her becoming heavier for Lee, while vitality slipped from her body and drained her skin of color. Lee felt his heart beat, urging him to get his friend to safety. Around him, he forgot about Daryl, Maggie, Vince or Kenny, his mind focused on her bleeding stomach.

"_Lee! We gotta go! Too many of them guards! Hurry up!_"

Lee turned to Molly, trying to meet her gaze, but her head was hovering low, her face sunk to the asphalt.

"Molly! Molly, hang in there! Molly! _Molly_?!"

* * *

Martinez, Rick, Alice, Karen, Michonne and Stevens walked into the ground floor of the warehouse, which had a backdoor leading to an alley. Their escape route. The streets had proved to be a bad option, since there was now a flowing current of guards jogging from one place to the other in the roads. Rick often stared at Michonne, somewhat concerned over her state of mind.

"Stop looking at me like that...don't worry about me."

Rick gulped. "Right...sorry."

"Okay, wait here a minute." Martinez said, stopping in front of the backdoor. "I'll be right back."

Martinez opened the door and walked outside, into the night. The alleyway fence was guarded by a kid with dark skin and a headband, whom Martinez recalled being called Curtis. He stood atop a dumpster, with a rifle in his hands.

"Hey, hey kid! I'm taking over for you. Hand me that rifle and run along. I'll cover the rest of your shift."

Curtis hopped off the dumpster. "Sure man, whatever. But, uh, why are you doing this? You need me somewhere else or something?"

"Don't ask me any questions. I'm doing you a favor here. Hand me the gun, thank me, and enjoy your time off."

"Uh, sure."

Curtis gave him his rifle and marched out of the alley. Martinez waited for a few seconds after he got out of sight, before he whistled at his friends. Rick came out through the door and the others quickly followed.

"C'mon. We get over this wall and we're home free. We gotta hurry."

"Right, don't you think we're in a hurry to leave as well?" Rick said.

"I'm not leaving yet." Michonne said.

"What?" Rick said.

"I'm going to visit the Governor. I'll catch up with you or I won't. I just can't leave without doing this. Where does he live?"

"Two buildings up from this alley. Second floor, first apartment on the left." Alice said.

Rick stared at her as she turned around and vanished into the warehouse once more, without a word or a farewell. He banished her from his thoughts. He had to concentrate on getting out of there and meet up with his friends. With Lee. And Carl. Martinez beckoned at them before hopping over the fence. Stevens went first, being aided by Martinez who lowered him down onto the concrete.

"There is something about that woman..." Karen said.

"Hmph. You've said it." Rick said.

Karen joined Stevens and Martinez on the other side. Alice hanged from the fence, towards the exterior side. Martinez grasped her by the sides of her torso, a wide smile sketching in his lips as he descended her to the ground. Alice donned a grumpy frown, feeling his hands slide to her breasts.

"There you go, you're almost there." Martinez smiled.

"Just watch the hands." Alice said, setting her feet on the ground. "Should we have left that woman go on her own?"

"Trust me, we'd only slow Michonne down." Rick said as he climbed to the other side.

"I just can't believe we made it out of there so easily." Stevens said. "I mean, the walls aren't really meant to keep people in, but still...I'm so relieved."

"Feels spooky being outside after being inside those walls for so long..." Karen said.

Stevens adjusted his glasses, before a guttural growl echoed behind him. He froze, noticing his accomplices puckering their foreheads and their lower lips drooping, their eyes riveted to something behind him. His brain rapidly pieced two and two, his whole body turning to solid stone. Jagged and yellow teeth sank into his neck, spurting blood from his arteries. His arms flew in the air as the pull of the zombie tipped him to the ground, a scream braiding from his mouth. Stevens collapsed on top of the biter, who yanked his head back and chewed on the hunk of flesh. Stevens fixated a shell-shocked gaze on his colleagues, his glasses sliding off his ears.

"Doctor Stevens!" Alice shouted.

"...what...what is it...? Is it one of them...? The biters...?"

Alice snatched Martinez's rifle from his back, tearing it off the sling. "Gimme that!"

"Hey!"

Alice aligned the barrel of the rifle with the biter's head, as her eyesight became blurry with tears. With a quivering grip on the gun, she smashed the trigger once. The bullet struck a building, missing the zombie by a mile. She fired again. The bullet drilled the cranium of the biter, its head dropping to the floor and its jaws hanging open, with a bloody pap between them. She fired a third time. And a fourth one. The additional shots pulverized the biter's skull into crimson ash. Alice sniffled, tears running down her cheeks, the climate becoming sickeningly silent after the gunshots deafened their ears. Karen leaned against the fence, covering her mouth with her hand and swallowing down a gag reflex.

"...I'm not dying...think of it scientifically...I'm just...evolving into a different...worse life form...I'll still exist...in some way...take the supplies, you'll need them to take care of these people...use what I taught you...go..."

Stevens' eyes rolled back, his eyelids fluttering as life drained from his body like the blood leaking from his neck. Rick folded his arms, holding back his urge to tell her to hurry up. Alice wiped her wet eyes, lowering the rifle. Martinez stood behind her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

"We gotta move. Guards will think the shots were just someone picking off biters. But the shots will still bring every biter in the area to us. We need to be gone by then. I—he was a good friend...I'll miss him, too."

Alice nodded, knowing that despite her emotions, the biters were the more concerning. Karen took the duffel bag from Stevens, looking away from his corpse. Martinez massaged her shoulder, prompting her to rest her head against his shoulder as she sniffled. They took a last glance at the dead doctor before walking away. Rick looked at Karen, clutching his sore side. Her eyes were spread open, more appalled and paler than before. Rick guessed that watching a man die before her eyes was a sight that she hadn't seen a lot in the past.

"Welcome to the fucking apocalypse."

* * *

Philip entered the arena, standing in the middle of the oval field. The bleachers were wedged with the entirety of the townspeople, their stares fixated on their leader, silently demanding answers and revenge to the attack they endured. Kids sat nested with their parents, dread glowing in their eyes. Philip lowered his head, coming up with a few words that would assure his people. And most importantly, make justice. Bruce, Merle and Shumpert stood by the entrance of the stadium, behind their leader. Philip looked up at his people, raising his arms to the side and letting them drop back to his hips.

"What can I say? It's been a while since we've had people arrive at our little community. When I saw a small group arriving at our gates, I was thrilled. I thought they were like us, happy to be alive, thankful to see other survivors, but that was not the case! There is evil in this world! And not all of it comes in the form of those undead things clawing at our fences. At first I had no idea of what they were capable of. I trusted them. It was a grave mistake. They needed supplies, something we seemed to have plenty of. They live in a nearby prison, and they took our head of security Martinez with them. Only God knows the awful things that they might be doing to him. There was talk of combining the camps, one group moving into the safest place to live. But the truth is, we are not safe. There are people out there who want what we have! Terrorists who want to destroy us! And worse...because one of those terrorists...is one of our own."

The crowd bubbled with curious and shocked murmurs, their heads turning around towards their loved ones and friends, repeating the Governor's words in a tone of incredulity. Merle lifted his head, frowning, wondering what he was talking about. He hadn't been informed of a treachery among them. Philip knew that the townsfolk were thirsting for vengeance, and he would give it to them. Their murmurs were just him stirring the pot of boiling water. Philip turned around towards Merle, piercing his soul with his glare and beaming his finger towards him.

"Merle!"

The whispers intensified into gasps. Merle stretched out his visage, not sure if he was hearing correctly. Bruce butted his pistol against his spine, while Shumpert raised a crossbow at his head. Merle swiveled his head around at Bruce with a twitching lip, who returned a cold and neutral gaze. Shumpert took his knife and pistol, holstering them on his belt. Merle was now sure that Philip had somehow figured out that the kid wasn't really dead. The crowd kept discussing amongst them, the truth that Philip's right-hand man was a traitor slowly being processed in their minds.

"The man I counted on! The man I trusted! He led 'em here! He let 'em in! It was you! You lied! Betrayed us all!"

Rudy and Wes walked into the arena, dragging a squirming man into the field, his head covered with a bag. Merle turned his eyes towards the captive, who wore a vest with yellowed, white wings stitched on the back. Merle felt his hairs stand up, staring at that winged vest. Bruce pushed Merle into the middle of the arena, forcing him to stand in front of the prisoner blinded by the sack. Rudy and Wes stepped out of the arena, while Philip walked up to the prisoner and yanked away the bag from his head.

"This is one of the terrorists! Merle's own brother!"

Daryl blinked as his eyes sailed about his surroundings, waves of disdain being cast onto him by each flank, from their vengeful stares. But then his eyes locked in the man in front of him. The cropped, graying hair, the blue eyes, the wrinkled and craggy visage and the slim physique. Merle. The two brothers stared at one another, almost entirely apathetic to the fact that they had found each other. Daryl's heart fluttered with joy that vanished in the next heartbeat, as his eyes turned back to the hateful crowd and he focused on the immediate and dangerous circumstances.

"What should we do with them, huh?!"

"_Kill them!_" A man in the crowd shouted.

"What?! What do you want?!"

"_Kill them! Kill them!_"

That one remark emitted by one man transformed into an entire chant. The civilians stood up and waved their fists in the air, repeating the same words over and over, in the same intonation. The atmosphere became more cumbersome as a single thought occupied the brothers' minds. _We're fucked._ Philip calmly paced around the arena, flapping his arms high in the air. _Louder!_ And the crowd obeyed, their screams heightening in volume. Philip turned to Merle, the crowd silencing itself the instant he voiced up.

"I asked you where your loyalties lie. You said here. Then, prove it. Prove it to us all. A fight to the death. The winner goes free."

Merle and Daryl shifted their eyes between one another and the crowd, their minds clouded between the frail balance between their reunion and the death sentence that was being issued to them. Rudy and Wes returned into the stadium along with four other guards, each one of them holding a chain that leashed a biter at its end. They spread around the arena, encircling Merle and Daryl with the six walkers that groaned at them. Philip approached Bruce, whispering in his ear.

"I need to step out. I'll be back before the fight's over. Whoever wins, take 'em outside and kill 'em."

Bruce nodded. Philip marched back to Merle who glared back at him. Philip grinned.

"You wanted your brother. Now you got him."

Philip smiled at him, before strolling out of the arena.

"_Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them! __Kill them!_"

* * *

Philip squatted in front of Penny, the katana by his feet, the crowd's muffled roars frothing outside his apartment. He hung Harold's severed hand in front of her mouth. The skin was cold but still somewhat colored. But the zombified girl had her eyes riveted to Philip and not the hunk of flesh, her hands clawing the air between her and the man. Philip let out a sigh. It seemed like she was getting pickier with what she ate.

"Dammit, honey, eat it. It's not completely fresh but I swear this thing was walking a few hours ago. It's not that bad and it's only going to get worse. You've got to eat now, c'mon—"

There was a powerful knock on the door, as if someone was slamming it with their foot.

"What the hell do you want?! And don't beat on my door so goddamned hard!"

The door was pounded again and sprang open on its hinges, the lock splintering into fragments. Michonne rushed through into the apartment, standing firmly by the doorposts. Philip gasped, widening his eyelids, but his visage quickly turned back into a poker face. Philip and Michonne remained in silence, staring at each other while not moving in their positions, as Penny kept growling in the background. The two of them solidifed, as they knew that a melee would break out in the following seconds. And Philip only thought of one thing to say.

"Well...this should be interesting."


	68. Home, I

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 68 – HOME, I**

* * *

Philip and Michonne stood in front of each other, their stares locked. Her eyes bayoneted him with a fervent bloodlust that radiated from her dark irises, but his gelid, blue gaze remained unaffected. Each second where the silence and the standstill persisted made their muscles tense even more. At one precise millisecond, the hourglass would unfreeze and one of them would attempt to attack the other. Penny gnarled, her tiny fingers flailing at the sight of two adults. An additional treat. Philip sank his fingertips into his palm, examining the scars and nicks that dented her face, while his brain scanned the environment around him for an opportunity.

_The girl's teeth. The katana on the floor. _Philip cursed in his mind without moving his lips. He forgot the exact position of the sword. He had to take a look. But when he did, all hell would break loose. His eyes sprang towards the katana. It was a meter away. Her eyes followed his unto the blade as well, their eyeballs magnetized in a bizarre gravitational orbit. Philip stiffened entirely. Now was the key moment.

He dived towards the katana, stretching his arm out towards the handle.

"No!"

Michonne hammered his jaw with her boot sole, throwing Philip off trajectory and crashing him onto the living room carpet. He steadied his tumble and wiped the blood from his redden gums, bracing himself with a hand against the floor. Michonne squatted and grabbed the katana. Philip lurched towards her, his arms spread out like a fisher's net that would trap her, but she quickly rose to her feet and kicked him in the groin. A load of oxygen and a jet of saliva were chucked from his lips, as he crumbled on his knees with his eyes swollen like balloons.

Philip sucked air into his lungs, sharp agony clawing his whole abdomen. His stomach wrung around itself, plying him in two and forcing vomit out of his esophagus. Philip gurgled with barf still dripping from his lips, a pool of bile laying below his head that had the color of sewer water. Michonne towered over the man, who was assailed by pain from all flanks, her grip strong on the katana and the blade rising over her head with might like so many times before. No emotion contorted the etched rock that her visage had become. Not even pleasure. She didn't down the blade. No. It was too easy. If she cut off his head, the pain would go away in a second.

"I didn't want it to be this quick. I don't want it to be over."

Philip tackled her while putting his agony aside. The katana flew from her grasp and their bodies rolled on the ground, their limbs thudding against the floor. They rolled into the aquarium room. Philip hurried onto his feet, turning towards his enemy. She was almost up from the ground. He sprinted towards her and rammed her with his shoulder. Her feet pedaled backwards, until her back struck the aquarium façade. Philip clutched onto her scalp and thrust her head into one of the aquariums, the impact shattering the glass and leaving more bleeding scratches on her face. The water spilled from the container and the two soggy heads inside with bisque skin snapped their jaws slightly faster, their bleached eyeballs turning towards Michonne. Philip pushed her face inside. Michonne speeded her breaths as she solidified her neck muscles, the sight of the clicking rotten teeth growing closer.

Michonne latched onto two other aquariums with each of her hands, yanking them back. The glass recipients shattered on the floor, soaking the floorboards and creating a domino effect as three aquariums that were stacked atop them crumbled onto the ground. Philip stepped back, letting go of her and almost losing balance. The floor was drenched in water and ten zombified heads were strewn across the room, their battering teeth forming an uncoordinated choir. His eyes sprang back towards Michonne, seeing nothing but a katana hilt approaching his face until it hit him. And then the lights went out.

* * *

"_Kill them! Kill them! Kill them! Kill them!_"

Daryl glanced around him, the crowd surrounding him and his brother from all sides. Their fists raged in the air, their voices clamoring for their blood to be drawn. He tightened his fists, cursing each man and woman standing amidst the townspeople for being too ignorant to whom their governor truly was. The exit was guarded, and a group of henchmen chained six walkers around them as if they were Santa's fucking reindeers. The slender creatures dressed with uniform tatters taunted them with empty bites and their darkened tongues writhing between their jaws. A dash for escape wasn't an option.

"_Go on, Merle!_"

"_Yeah, Merle!_"

"_Merle!_"

Daryl's lips teetered. Those bastards were cheering for his brother. Despite the two brothers standing side by side after such a long time, there was no thrill of reunion. Just survival instinct. Merle perked up as he heard the cheering from the spectators directed towards him. His brain sparked up, acknowledging how the situation could be exploited. Merle squeezed his lips and paced around the arena, raising his arm in the air, further boosting the crowd's cheers.

"Y'all know me! I'm gonna do whatever I gotta do to prove..."

Merle twirled around and his fist pounded Daryl in the stomach, tipping him onto his knees. He pressed his hand against the ground, spitting particles of sand from his sticky lips. The spectators boomed with excitement.

"...that my loyalty is to this town!"

Gabe stumbled into the arena, heading towards Bruce who guarded the entrance. He rubbed his bloodied scalp, the rifle stock still drilling phantom pain into his skull. His throat was sore from the windpipe karate chop, paining him whenever he swallowed his saliva. He quirked an eyebrow at seeing Merle punching a guy who was laying on the sand. There was no fight scheduled, not after the shitstorm from a few hours ago.

"What the fuck is going on here, Bruce?"

Bruce looked at him, his eyes spreading.

"Merle's a traitor, and he's fighting to the death with his brother. Geez, what the hell happened to you?"

"Martinez did this. That cocksucker snuck out the prisoners and nearly killed me. Where's the Gov? We gotta tell him about this!"

"He'll be back soon. But in the meanwhile, he told me to hold down the fort here. Just wait for him."

Merle kicked Daryl in the gut. He let out another groan as pain imploded in his stomach, his body jibing in the sand from the kick. Merle pounded his spine and his midsection with kicks, the shouts and cheers normalizing after each blow but climaxing during the impact of the next hit, like a rollercoaster of timbres. Daryl dragged a breath into his lungs, a walker's feet standing just behind him. He had to fight back. He didn't believe that his brother would be naïve to go along with what the Governor said, but he was. He swung his arm around and his fist smacked Merle in the jaw. The cheers heightened once more, but sank in intonation. Merle hurtled onto his knees and counter-attacked a punch that flew in his direction, deflecting it and pinning his brother against the sand with a hand welded to his collar.

"You really think this asshole's gonna let you go?!"

"Just follow my lead, little brother." Merle said between teeth. "We're getting out of this...right now."

Merle lifted him onto his feet with one strong haul. Daryl butted his back with his brother's, the two now linked in an allied stance, their fists hovering in front of their faces like pugilists while facing the six walkers that cornered them in the center of the stadium. The guards neared the biters to them, remarking their sudden cooperation. Merle faced a biter in front of him and launched a right hook that struck it in the temple. The circular motion avoided its teeth but the strong impact knocked it to its knees. The guard leashing it struggled to remain his balance while holding onto the dead weight of the biter. Daryl kicked a walker in the ribcage, which staggered back and crashed into the man holding it. The guard fell on the sand and the walker had enough leeway to reach the people on the bleachers. Frightened screams mixed with the cheers as townsfolk scurried up the bleachers, dodging the biter before the guard returned to his feet and guided the biter back to its position.

Merle curled his fingers, preparing to strike another biter. But he held back his arm. An explosion of sound drummed the arena and a projectile carved a hole in its skull. Once the biter crumbled on the ground like a weightless blanket, the cheering shifted into panicked yells. Bruce and Gabe reached for their handguns, glancing in all directions. Merle and Daryl froze, spinning their gaze towards the origin of the gunshot. Kenny and Maggie were crouching behind a dumpster in the entrance of the stadium, the barrels of their assault rifles scanning the arena. They spat a few more shots, one of them puncturing Shumpert in the chest and dropping him to the sand.

The townspeople trampled away from the gunfire like a wild pack of loose cows, while most of the guards struggled between fighting back and holding back the zombies. Kenny tossed a smoke grenade into the arena, clouding it with a veil of grey fog. Bullets blindly glided around the arena, between the guards and the terrorists. Merle tugged Daryl by the shoulder, catching his gaze and jerking his forehead towards the exitway.

"C'mon, little brother! Stay close!"

Daryl nodded and dashed for the exit with his brother. As he ran by Shumpert, he snatched his crossbow from his dead hands without stopping. Bruce sprang his head towards the bleachers, hearing a high-pitched holler. A biter ganging up on a little girl. He jogged towards her and drove a bullet through the walker's head, before the frantic mother hurried to fetch her kid and disappear back into the fog. Bruce groaned, running back to Gabe. The gunfire had ceased and the other guards had euthanized the remaining zombies, only the panic resounding in the fighting grounds. The fog began to dissolve, revealing the prisoners to be gone.

"Fucking hell...what are we going to do?" Gabe said.

"What do you think?! We gotta go get the Governor!" Bruce said.

* * *

"Wake up, asshole."

Philip opened his eyes. His brain was dazzled from the knockout and slowly processed what was going on. His forehead was sore. He could feel that the katana hilt had left an ugly gash up there. Each pore on his skin dripped sweat, his body warm from the physical exhaustion but the coating of sweat made him feel chilly. He was stripped naked. A bad flavor intoxicated his tongue. He tried to move his lips, but felt a strip of duct tape restraining them. his midsection sore from the low blow. Pain was persistent throughout his whole body, to the point where he didn't know where it came from.

His eyes trailed to his sides. His arms were tied to the walls with rope. His eyes then sank to the ground, his mind blasting adrenaline into his veins from what he saw. He was on his knees atop a wooden board, and his penis was nailed to it. His instinct was to squirm and escape from his captive, but he didn't budge the slightest. One movement and his shaft would turn to mush. He raised his head. Michonne squatted in front of him, her mask with no emotion sketched upon it plastered onto her visage. But a horrifying wickedness glowed in her eyes. Philip sniffed breaths in through his enlarged nostrils, which were barely enough as he straggled to suppress the panic that accelerated his respiration. He was fucked. The front door was boarded shut, and in front of Michonne there was a series of tools. Pliers, hammer, blowtorch, spoon and power drill. He swallowed his saliva, imagining how she would put them to use.

"Finally. I thought you were never going to wake up. You passed out a second time when I nailed your prick to the board you're on. Do you remember that? I wouldn't do much moving if I were you. Don't worry about the little girl. Tell me...she your daughter? I found this."

Michonne grabbed a small notebook from the ground and opened it, showing what was written to Philip. In the first pages, it was just the name Penny written over and over, then in the rest of the pages there was just lines drewn on the pages. Philip's eyes lit up a bit, but he quickly tried to hide that spark of recognition. Michonne felt a tingle as she managed to read the message in his eyes, but she didn't smile.

"She is your daughter. I see it in your eyes. Don't worry. She'll come and play with her daddy soon."

Philip moaned, widening his eyes. Michonne guessed that he was pleading her not to hurt Penny.

"I'm anxious to get started. I'll begin with some show and tell. I'm gonna use everything here on you before you die."

Michonne reached for the instruments, picking each one up as she enumerated them.

"First up, pliers. Next up, a hammer. Already used this on you a little. Acetylene torch, feels almost full, too. That's good, you used this for cooking. I will too."

Michonne picked up the spoon.

"You're going to really like what I'm gonna do with this. Then, there's the electric power drill. Must have just charged this up at the stadium. The battery's full. I think we'll start with this."

Michonne squeezed the trigger. The drill rotated while emitting a racket that sounded like the buzz of a mechanical hornet. She neared the tip of the drill to his right shoulder. Philip stared at the approaching drill, his eyelids peeled off, shaking his right arm harder as it grew closer. His muffled groans increased as injections of adrenaline agressively tickled his solar plexus. She punctured his shoulder, driving the whole drill inside. Philip shut his eyes until he saw patterns in the obscurity, his vocal cords vibrating violently as if a harp was being played by a metalhead, but the screams remained trapped in his cranium. Michonne removed the drill, provoking a stream of oozing blood. She chewed off two strips of duct tape and sealed the wound. She turned to Philip, whose moans had ceased and his head hung low, his eyes closed.

"Wake up!"

Michonne slapped his cheek with vigor. Philip barely cracked his eyelids open, heavy bags weighing them down. His skin glowed from the intensified sweating. She grabbed the pliers.

"You're going to love this."

She viced the pliers on a fingernail of his right hand, yanking it right off. Michonne wrenched out the fingernails with precision, one after the other. The middle finger. The ring finger. The pinky. The thumb. At each one, Philip growled with less dynamism, the pain making him drift off into a blurry realm between unconsciousness and lucidity. Michonne had to render him alert once more. He was barely feeling anything. His reaction was unsatisfying. She got up and picked her katana up.

"That hand is just ruined now. Just ruined."

With a prompt vertical swoop, she hacked off his right arm. He snapped awake, his eyes spreading wide open and springing towards his stump. The pain infected his body, reaching his torso and making his heart pound in his chest, each heartbeat feeling like a horse kick to the ribs. He shook his bleeding stump, while Michonne took the acetylene torch and lit the gas, sparking up a lighter in front of the tip of the tube.

"Don't worry. I think I can stop the bleeding."

* * *

"_Hey, stay with me. Molly. Look at me. Don't close your eyes, just look at me._"

Molly blinked, her face curdling as she attempted to focus on the man. Her eyeballs rolled about in her skull, as if she had no control over them, a shroud of white light slowly blinding her and menacing to seize her in an unconscious state. She blinked harder, attenuating the light and concentrating on the obscurity around her. She was stretched out on a soft, leathery surface. Above her, instead of the starry sky, she just saw a car roof. The Hyundai. She raised her head with a stiff neck. Lee's warm gaze stared right back at her, his visage untouched by emotion and determined on corking her bullet wound with his hand. She dropped her head back with an odd-sounding grunt, her midsection burning from the effort.

"Molly, you with me?"

"...y—yea..."

"Good. Stay that way."

Lee looked back down at her injury, narrowing his eyelids. Her jacket was painted red from the blood that cascaded down the backseats of the vehicle. His hand was sticky with a mix of fresh and coagulated blood, but he kept his palm pressed against the gaping void in her stomach. His fingers were the best bandaging he could find. He glanced to his side. Vince sat in the front seat of the car, wincing and hissing while he clutched his side, his skin turned pale and his eyes glowing with an opaque light like frosted glass. Glenn inspected his wounds.

"You gotta take your hand off so I can take a look!" Glenn said.

"You ain't gotta take a look."

"Do you really think you're okay?!"

"Well, supposing that by 'okay' you mean 'do you think you're gonna fucking die?', I think I'll be peachy. The pellets just grazed me, I think."

Branches snapped within the forest. Lee and Glenn darted a glance around them, seeing nothing but vertical silhouettes of the slender trees. Lee grinded his teeth, wiping a bead of sweat on his forehead against his shoulder. Having Molly hanging by a thread already made him tap his foot against the ground at erratic paces, and if walkers showed, things would severely complicate. _Dammit, Kenny, hurry up._ He barely managed to haul Molly back to the car, and only succeeded in doing so because Vince could walk, even if it was with a limp.

"They need to get back right fucking now." Lee said. "We get caught out here, we're fucked."

"We got the creek bed behind us, so they can't sneak up on us." Glenn said.

"Yeah, good point."

Lee turned to Molly once more. She appeared to be more awakened, her blinking eyes staring up at the roof of the vehicle. His hand slid up and down with the swelling of her diaphragm at each breath. Sometimes, he barely felt her stomach inflating. He wished he could help her more than he was, but having just one hand limited what he could do.

"You'll have to excuse the sloppy work here."

"...it's fine...you're...a bit short-handed...am I righ—?"

Molly let out a cough, mixed with the flash of a smile. The sudden belly spasm made a jet of blood squish between his fingers. Lee grimaced, tightening the pressure, but then forced a smile, glad that she kept some of her humor despite the circumstances.

"I have to play with the hand I'm dealt, and I only got one."

"...great...now it's turned into a pun-fest..."

More rustling made them stiffen, but this time, it was nearer.

"Glenn, take over me. I'm gonna check that out."

Glenn nodded and walked towards him, switching his hand for his. Lee stared towards the origin of the noise while swiping his hand against his jeans, dusting off some of the blood. He whipped out his handgun, pussyfooting towards the trees and keeping his eyes wary of any movement. Four shadows delineated in front of him. His fingers clenched his handgun, but then softened. The shadows walked towards him, but their march was regular and was far from the shuffle of the dead. And his eyes lit up when he recognized the first person.

"Rick!"

The sheriff beamed with a smiled as the two friends wrapped their arms around each others and deadlocked in a warm embrace. Lee sighed heavily, the guilt of leaving his friend behind discharging after seeing that he was okay. He was alive and his blood would not stain his hands.

"Lee. You guys made it."

"Barely. Rick, I'm so sorry...we had to get outta Woodbury, we couldn't go back for—"

"It's okay. We made it, let's not worry 'bout that."

Lee turned a suspicious glance towards Karen and Alice, his visage tensing once he recognized Martinez.

"What is he doing here?" Lee sneered.

"Look, I know how it looks, but I'm on your side, okay?" Martinez said.

"He helped us get out." Rick said, glancing at the soldier. "We can trust him."

_For now._

* * *

Michonne squatted behind Philip, whom had drifted away into a troubled coma and her slaps hadn't awakened him. But she had to proceed with what she started. He was arched with his torso slumped against the floor, his drenched visage twitching with pain and perhaps dreadful visions of whatever he saw in his unconscious state. She turned her head to the side with spiraled lips, as she scrambled Philip's anus with the spoon. His stump had darkened and became crusty from the cauterization. Michonne plunged the spoon further up his rectum, provoking a croak from him while he remained hunched over. She yanked out the spoon, shaking off some of the blood and feces that were infused in one disgusting mix.

"You're awake. Good. Egh...this'll be sore for a while...and I thought getting it in was hard."

Michonne circled around the man, who lifted his head from the floor. She kicked him in the jaw, veering him up and sending him onto his back against the floor, a sickening shred echoing in the room. Philip croaked again, now laying on his back and his penis painfully stretching out. Michonne gripped the spoon as she sat over the man's nude torso. _Let's add insult to injury._

"I think I kicked you too hard. It looks like something ripped. Don't pass out on me yet. We're not done yet."

She slid the spoon between his orbit and his eyeball. Red ligaments shot blood into his sclera, his eyelids twitching and his arm squirming. Michonne dug the spoon further inside, squishy noises reaching her ears with each jerk. The man underneath her almost tipped her over with his fidgeting, his screams bloating his cheeks as his tear ducts flooded with tears. Michonne ejected the eyeball, that remained attached to the skull through muscle connections.

Michonne dropped the spoon, taking in a deep breath. She was electrified with energy not a few seconds ago, but now she was depleted of it and the fatigue that she held back so strongly now came down on her. She tried to heft herself onto her feet, but her body weighed too much. Her stomach flipped around within her and bent her over, forcing her to puke the little she contained in her. She wiped her tacky lips, tears streaming down her cheeks as she curled in the corner. She silently sobbed as she stared at the brutalized, unconscious man, each wound a mark of the atrocities she was capable of.

The things that made her scared of herself.

There was a loud knock on the door and the handle was revolved. Michonne brushed her tears dry, her visage rapidly solidifying to rock once more.

"_Governor?! You in there?!_" Gabe shouted from outside. "_Yo, Phil! Open up, The crazy bitch is gone, man! Stevens, Alice, Martinez, Rick, too! And those fuckers came back and got Merle and Daryl! What happened to your door?! Say something, sir! We're coming in!_"

Michonne grabbed her katana, springing to her feet. There was a first rattling kick on the door. She approached the zombified girl, sliding the sword through her eye-socket without a sign of hesitation. The girl ceased her purgatorial groans and toppled onto the floorboards, the chain still wrapped around her neck like a ribbon. She turned to Philip, staring down at his sorry image. Now was the time to take off, but she wasn't done yet. She slid the end of her blade across his waist, splitting his dick from his pelvis as if it were butter.

"Looks like whatever's left of that could have probably healed up. And we wouldn't want that."

Another kick pounded the room. The boards were demolished and the kick burst the lock of the door into splinters, making it violently swing back on its hinges. Gabe and Bruce stood there, their frowns accentuating as they spotted Michonne dashing for the window.

"Fucking-A! She's here! Get her!" Bruce shouted.

Michonne disappeared around the corner. Bruce chased after her, but Gabe halted dead on his tracks, his enraged gaze thawing as he flicked his eyes over the dead girl and the mutilated Philip on the floor. Bruce stopped after reaching the corner of the room, seeing the woman leap through an open window onto an emergency ladder, and vanishing like a ninja that was never there. Bruce growled, banging his fist against the wall. His legs urged him to give chase, but he had to prioritize the half-dead Governor.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

* * *

Kenny and Maggie kept their assault rifles ready to fire, propelling their gazes around them. The streets were emptied of any guards, unlike before. The first break of luck they had the entire night. Daryl was reunited with his crossbow, and jogged alongisde Merle and the others towards the front wall. The guards must have all been in the arena, but they could chase after them at any minute. Merle pointed his fingers towards the fence.

"This way! They're all at the arena." Merle said.

"You're not coming anywhere with us!" Kenny said.

"You really wanna do this now?!"

Merle kicked one of the metal sheets that structured the fence. Kenny, Maggie and Daryl formed a circle around him, facing the elongated road with an attentive lookout. After a few strong kicks, the bolts screwing the metal sheet broke off. He pushed the sheet outwards, creating a tight chasm for them to squeeze through. He skidded onto the exterior of the town, coming across a few dispeled biters. While the others squeezed through the gap, he kicked the kneecap of the nearest biter, shoving it to the asphalt with his boot and stomping its skull in, the fractured shards of his cranium puncturing his brainstem. Merle turned to the others.

"A little help would be nice!" Merle said, waving his fingers towards the horizon. "We ain't got time for this! Let's go!"

With their footsteps thumping the roads, they sprinted into the forest, past the railroad tracks and the abandoned train wagons.

* * *

A new dawn began to rear its head, with a pale light bathing the landscape and faintly illuminating the coniferous forest. Kenny presumed that their car should have been just a few more minutes away. But as they got closer, he feared the reaction that the others would have once they saw the definition of white-trash in person, back to itch their assholes once again. He was always the cause of conflict back in Atlanta. He sighed, believing that at least Lee would have a reasonable reaction. A pinch of nostalgia hit him, as he reminded himself of the first month spent in that quarry within the outskirts of Atlanta. So many people from back then were now gone, just pieces of history long forgotten.

Maggie dragged her feet behind the older fisherman, her assault rifle gaining a few pounds whilst dangling off her shoulder. With her bright eyes directed at the ground, her thoughts abstracted her of her environs, simply thinking of Glenn. She excited herself at the thought of seeing him again. Holding him in her arms and looking at his foolish grin. Daryl and Merle didn't exchange a word. It wasn't as if there was any catching up to do. Or any will to do so. Daryl prepared himself to retain his brother since he was known to often resort to his fists when provoked. He was bound to create conflict. Hell, he probably was hyped at the thought of having everyone arguing over him. The center of attention, the fucking belle of the ball.

The outlines of a creek bed and the bent tail of a crashed helicopter drew amid the foliage. Beyond it, so did a Hyundai and several people around it. Lee and Glenn. Kenny smiled at seeing his old friend, and his smirk persisted once he saw Rick. But the sight of three new faces quickly placed him in a bad mood. He guessed that they were from Woodbury, and that fact didn't help either. Glenn walked at a fast pace towards his girlfriend with a grin, but she didn't smile back.

"Ken! Maggie! You guys are—"

Kenny hurtled his footsteps towards him, stretching out an arm in front of him. Glenn glanced past him, his grin evaporating once he laid eyes on Merle and his crooked chuckle.

"Now, we got a problem here, we need you to back up."

"What the fuck is he doing here?!"

Glenn took a step towards Merle, but Kenny held him back with a hand on his chest. Rick and Lee marched towards them, their nostrils flaring at the sight of a shitty face they hoped to never see again. Martinez and Karen observed from a distance, letting them solve the drama they were unacquainted with, while Alice was patching up Molly. Lee clenched his fist, picturing his knuckles striking the man's jaw and effacing his grin forever.

"Hey, he helped us get out of there!" Daryl said.

"Right after he beat the shit out of you." Kenny said.

"Hey, we both took our licks, man." Merle said.

Merle snickered as he leaned his back against a tree, crossing his leg over the other one in a casual fashion. He relished the scenario in front of him. Kenny and Daryl with their backs turned to him, walling him off from Glenn, Rick and Lee, whom all had their glares fixated on him. Lee and Rick backed off, realizing that they couldn't just boot him back to Woodbury.

"Jackass." Daryl spat at his brother.

"Hey, shut up!" Merle said.

"Enough of this!" Rick said, as he stepped between the four men. "Stop this shit before we start pointing guns at each other! Whatever is done, is done!"

"If it wasn't for him—" Glenn said.

"Glenn, shut the fuck up!" Lee shouted. "We got Molly in there who's bleeding out and you're bickering like old ladies! Save it for later!"

"Man, look like you gone native, brother." Merle said.

"Not anymore than you hanging out with that psycho back there!" Daryl said, turning to his brother and waving a hand in front of Merle's face.

"Oh, yeah, man. He is a charmer, I gotta tell you that. Been puttin' the wood to the black bitch." Merle said, rolling his tongue through his lips. "Uh-uh."

"Shut up, bro!"

"Hey, man, we snagged you people off the streets. The biters would've gotten y'all if it weren't for us. But it don't really matter. He gonna come for you people. What you gonna do now, sheriff? All these guns and no bullets in them."

"Merle, shut up!" Daryl said.

Merle sprang to a straight posture, getting all up in his brother's face.

"Shut up yourself! Buncha pussies you roll—!"

Rick slammed the handgrip of his revolver against his nape. His eyes clasped shut like clams and his body collapsed on the ground, the scene turning silent while its characters savored the bit of pleasure from watching the pariah get a parcel of what he deserved. Rick jerked his head to the side, distancing himself out of the man's earshot. Lee, Maggie, Kenny, Glenn and Daryl walked after him.

"Asshole." Rick said, glancing at the unconscious man.

"Listen, he's gotta come back with us." Daryl said.

"It won't work."

"It's gotta."

"It'll stir things up."

"Look, the Governor could be on the way to the prison right now. Merle knows how he thinks and we could use the muscle."

"You don't know that. Michonne went to find him. She might've gotten rid of him by now."

"We can't act on those odds." Lee said. "Michonne hasn't come back yet. Not sure that's a good sign."

"That's not the point!" Kenny said. "He shot at you people in Atlanta! He could have killed you!"

A groan came from nearby. Their heads pivoted around. Merle propped himself against the tree with his hand, getting on his feet and puking on the ground. They shifted their attention back towards each other.

"He worked with the Governor. I'm not having him at the prison." Maggie said.

"Do you really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol or Beth?" Glenn said.

"He ain't a rapist." Daryl said.

"Well, his buddy is!

"They ain't buddies no more! Not after this night."

"There's no way Merle's gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats." Kenny said.

"Gotta second Ken on this one." Lee said.

"So y'all just gonna cut Merle loose? Merle's blood." Daryl said.

"No, Merle is your blood." Glenn said. "My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison."

"And you're part of that family." Lee said, looking at Daryl. "But he's not. He's not."

Daryl recoiled with one step. He eyed each person in front of him. Their stares of fret and concern were cast on him, stinging him like a knife. It was as if they were a pack of wolves that were ganging up on him, attacking him from all sides and leaving him without a chance to fight back. He couldn't leave his brother, Merle. As if his survival instinct was triggered, he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Man, y'all don't know. _Hmph_. Fine. We'll fend for ourselves."

"That's not what I was saying." Glenn said.

Rick opened his mouth, but Daryl cut him short.

"No him, no me."

"Daryl, you don't have to do that." Maggie said.

"It was Merle and I before this."

"Don't..."

"You serious?" Glenn said.

"You just gonna leave like that?" Kenny said.

"You'd do the same thing."

Lee released a breath, wondering what he could say and fearing the thought of Daryl abandoning them. He had been there from the start, despite his initial short-temper, and the group would be left with a gaping hole if he left. There had to be something that would convince him that he should remain with his true family and not his fake brother.

"What do you want us to tell Lilly?"

Daryl hesitated to answer for a moment. "She'll understand."

He nodded, before brushing past them and heading towards his brother.

"Say bye to Clem for me."

"Daryl, are you serious?! Daryl!" Lee said.

Glenn, Kenny and Lee chased after him, stopping after a few footsteps. Maggie vigorously scratched her hair. Rick marched after him, barely keeping up with his hurried pace. His demeanor was set and he wasn't sure he could change its course. No sign of reluctance in his visage.

"Hey, hey. There's gotta be another way."

"Don't ask me to leave him. I already did that once."

"We started something two weeks ago, in that prison. You know that, right?"

"No him, no me. That's all I gotta say. Take care of yourself. Lil' Ass-Kicker. Carl. That's one tough kid."

Rick let him go, standing alongside the others who viewed his departure with a cold spine. Merle grinned as he saw Daryl join him, like a master who is pleased with his dog's loyalty. Merle wrapped his arm around his brother's neck and the two strolled into the forest. Daryl glanced at them one last time, before facing the path ahead of him.

"Daryl!" Kenny shouted.

There was no response. Kenny and Lee released a sigh, before marching towards the Hyundai with a certain fury in their footsteps. Lee opened the trunk, before he tossed his assault rifle inside.

"I can't believe that guy just took off with his asshole brother. Fucking Stockholm's syndrome is nice this time of year, it seems." Kenny said.

"Family's family. Blood runs thick. I can't appreciate what he did, but I can understand." Lee said.

Maggie and Glenn turned to one another, trying to cast aside their thoughts about Daryl as their hands interwove. Karen sat against the hood of the vehicle, wiping her sweaty and hot forehead. The sun hurt her weakened eyes. She caressed her bandaged forearm. That infection was killing her. She should never had risked her life like she had, against that bandit. _Whatever. What's done is done. _A few more days and it would blow over, with the care of Alice. Martinez folded his arms and spat onto the grass, scoping out the surroundings. Lee stared at him, his trust towards him dwindling still. Could he be looking for any guards hidden in the forest that might have followed them? Or was he just performing the routinal task of looking for walkers? He gave him the benefit of the doubt and betted on the second option, but he would be keeping an eye on him. Just like Rick surely would as well.

The woods rustled with crunching branches. Rick snapped his gaze towards his flank, seeing Michonne approaching her with her sheathed katana in hand. Her visage had not changed an inch since the last time they saw each other, neither did her sturdy march. She just kept soldiering on. Rick wasn't exactly gleeful over seeing her. If she had died, it wouldn't have bugged him too much, yet he was desperate to know if she offed the Governor.

"Thank God. You okay?" Rick said.

"I'm fine." Michonne said. "Where's that doctor?"

"He...didn't make it. What about the Governor? Did you kill him?"

"Kill him? Kill who? I don't know what you're talking about, Rick. Let's just go home."

"Hey, don't fucking play with me!" Rick frowned, narrowing his fists. "You left to confront the Governor! Is he dead, or not?!"

"I—I don't know. He might be. I'm just not sure."

Lee stepped between the two of them, not wanting his friend to unleash some kind of anger towards the woman.

"Look, I'll take Glenn with me and drive Molly and Vince back home. We can meet up later at the prison."

Rick remained staring at Michonne, before nodding at him.

"Sounds good. Hurry up then."

"You'll just go back on foot?"

"No. We'll go back to the SUV we came in. We'll dig it out of the mud and we should be a few minutes behind you."

Lee nodded and hurried into the Hyundai, flashing a hand signal at Glenn to scurry to the passenger's seat. He adjusted the rearview mirror, looking at the two sickly people sitting in the backseats, before revving up the engine.

"Wait...you're gonna drive with one hand?"

"Hey, I can do it! Sure, if we have to shift gears quickly, you'll need to do that for me, but that shouldn't be necessary for now."

* * *

Rick, Martinez, Alice, Karen, Kenny and Maggie marched back home. Michonne lead their convoy, walking much faster than them with her katana ready to slice. While the others kept watch on the foliage for any undead threats, Rick riveted his eyes on Martinez for any suspicious signs. Perhaps a whistle that could serve as a trigger for an ambush, or if he secretly dropped empty bullet cartridges onto the ground as if they were breadcrumbs for the Governor to follow. But in the meanwhile, there were no redflags.

"She's been through what she's been through, and she's still going? She's a machine, she must be. Does she ever stop?" Karen said.

Rick opened his lips but held his words back, as he didn't know what the truth was. He didn't like that Michonne was so vague about what occured with the Governor. Was he dead? Was he alive? That was the question whose answer was crucial for their safety. He put a hand on Kenny's shoulder and leaned closer to his ear.

"Kenny. Something's not right here. Keep an eye on her, okay?"

"Yeah, I see it too. Will do. You keep an eye on—?"

"Yeah, I got it."

Rick and Kenny resumed their regular footing. The sheriff turned to Alice.

"You going to be okay?"

"Me? I'll be...fine. I'll be fine." Alice said, lowering her head and sliding her fingers down her braided hair. "Doctor Stevens was there, he was just...it's like...one minute he's there and the next one, he's gone. That's not a feeling I'm unfamiliar with. But it is a feeling I don't think I'll ever get used to. It's unsettling...hard to shake off the feeling of...helplessness."

"Yeah..."

"So, uh, Martinez, right?" Kenny said. "You always a soldier? You national guard? Something like that?"

"I am—was a gym teacher." Martinez said.

"Gym teacher? Nice. Haven't met one of those yet."

"Nice? Huh, right. Remember when this first started? I know you do. It was just nearly a year ago. Feels like decades, but I know it's much less. When it started, they had the 'safe havens', remember? Hospitals, churches, school. Told everyone to go there, it'd be easier to protect. That was before they abandoned that and told us to get to a major city."

"Yeah, a lot of people went to Atlanta. Wasn't a very good choice." Rick said.

"Yep, and back then they still had cops and firemen helping out, standing guard, fighting off any groups of biters that came along. And like you probably guessed, the safe havens weren't so safe."

"Yeah, my dorm room was turned into one. I barely got out of there alive." Alice said.

"Barely managed to haul ass from my hometown before finding Woodbury." Karen said.

"So you know." Martinez said. "All went to shit, really fast. People came to that place from miles around. All my students came with their parents. The place was packed. Everyone was scared, I told my boys stories to calm them down. We played basketball to keep our minds off what was going on. Then the biters overtook the cops, tore into the place...it was ugly. So...gym teacher turned out not so 'nice' in the end."

Martinez looked up at Kenny. His visage remained stoic yet comprehensive. His suspicions eased, having knowledge of who he was. His tone seemed genuine, and the story appeared true. Unless he was some kind of drama apprentice and fooled them all. Kenny knew that was a silly hypothesis, and quickly crossed it off the list. Despite that, it didn't take much to be a good liar. Lying was like any other survival skill that was essential to hone in order to make it. Martinez lowered his head once more, his expression tensing with fragments of painful memories.

"Was a time...in the beginning, I thought I was best suited for what was happening. Out of anyone, I thought I'd handle it the best. It was early on, when I thought this whole thing would be temporary...can't ever believe I ever thought that now."

Michonne swooped her blade towards a walker that showed up ahead of them, cleaving into its brain. She marched beyond its dead corpse, the others glancing at the woman and the cadaver before shifting their focus back to Martinez.

"I don't have any family. I was all alone. It's only me I gotta look after. Everyone was losing their minds about protecting their loved ones. Not me, though. I don't sleep well, no matter where I sleep. I can't close my eyes without seeing those kids crying out for their moms...for me...as their guts spilled out on the floor...knowing I couldn't do anything but run."

"Stay alert!" Michonne said. "Don't forget where we are. We could be surrounded in seconds in these woods. Anything could happen."

There was a growl beside Martinez. He lurched to his side. A walking corpse ambushed him, with its teeth reaching for his face. Martinez staggered back, stretching out his arm in a defensive instinct. His gloved fingers ended up right in the biter's mouth.

"No! Not today!"

Before the biter snapped its mouth shut, he seized its lower jaw and wedged it out. The bone cracked and separated from the skull and the jaw was left hanging low by the stretched skin, which resembled melted cheese. Martinez steadied his footing before punching the biter in the face. Alice picked up the sniper rifle from his back and fired two rounds into the walker, the first one piercing its chest and the next one pulverizing its skull.

"Thanks." Martinez said, caressing his right hand.

"We need to go, now! The noise will just bring more of them." Michonne barked.

The forest came alive with the language of primitive gnarls, disturbing the ambiance with rustling footsteps. Their shadows cornered them, lingering only a few meters away. Maggie and Kenny brandished their assault rifles, switching to semiautomatic mode and firing at the zombies, taking aim after each individual shot. Alice took the soldier's sniper rifle while he took out his pistol. Michonne jogged towards a walker that brushed its way past a few bushes, axing its head in two with her blade. Karen backed away into the middle of the circle formation, having no weapon and no condition to fight. Rick reached for his revolver, however a walker leaped onto him, impending him from getting his weapon. He tumbled on the grass, holding the walker above him with his hands posited on its shoulders. The zombie squirmed and made Rick hold his breath due to its putrid breath. The walker dripped inked saliva onto his face. Rick turned his head to the other side, trying to avoid the sticky goo.

"Blergh!"

He shook his head, cracking his eyes open. He puckered his forehead. Two more walkers were coming for him, stumbling in between the trees. Alice sprang around towards him, butting the rifle against her shoulder and peeking down the scope. She euthanized one of the biters with a clear shot to the brainstem. Rick growled as he shook his head in all directions, not being able to avert the rain of blood and brainmatter that poured onto his visage. Alice ran to the other biter, pounding its nape with her stock. She stood behind the kneeling walker, exchanging a stare at Michonne whom groaned with frustration.

"What?!" Alice said, rolling her eyes. "You can still kill that one, I only knocked him over."

Michonne let out a war cry before decapitating the kneeling walker. Alice rolled her eyes again, finding her overkill unnecessary. Kenny and Maggie ceased their gunfire, while Rick removed the dead weight from him and got on his feet, swabbing away the gore from his eyes. There was an opening in the midst of the horde, and they had a short window to escape before they closed them in once more.

"This isn't getting any easier." Michonne said.

"There's too many of them! Run!" Rick said.

They bolted through the opening, galloping towards their destination. Michonne kept their path clear with a katana pounce whenever a walker reared its head. The trees became rarer around them until they reached a familiar clearing. The SUV was there, beyond the half-broken fence, somewhat tilted downwards from its sunk tire. A herd of walkers had flocked throughout the clearing. Their time was short once more.

"Maggie! You know how Glenn started this thing, get the engine running!" Rick said.

Maggie nodded and opened the driver door, disappearing inside. Rick, Kenny, Michonne, Karen, Martinez and Alice bent in front of the hood, placing their hands on it. Kenny straightened himself, quickly shooting down a walker that got too close, before they all began pushing the vehicle.

"We've got it in neutral! If we can get it moving, we might be able to rock it out of the mud!" Kenny said.

"Got it!" Maggie shouted, just as the engine roared to life.

Their voices weaved into differentiating pitches of grunts as they shouldered their weight against the vehicle. Maggie stepped on the pedal gently. The tires slowly began spinning, spitting mud onto their shoes. But the vehicle started to back out of the hole. Rick let out a nervous chuckle, glancing around at the walkers surrounding them.

"That did it! It's moving!" Rick said.

"Get in! Quick!" Maggie said.

The SUV returned to ground level on even land. Maggie poked her head out of her window, waving her head, just as the vast horde shambled out of the forest towards them. They rushed into the backseats.

"Get us out of here!" Rick said.

"I'm on it!" Maggie said.

Maggie drove in reverse, before halting and driving straight out into the road. She zigzagged around the gaps between the walkers, avoiding getting the car stuck again if they ran over one of them. Once they were on the asphalt road, Kenny looked past his shoulder, through the rear window. The walkers disappeared behind them, past the forest panorama. He slumped against his seat, letting out a relieved and audible sigh. Martinez exhaled a heavy breath before wiping his forehead.

"Make sure you go a bit fast so we'll catch up with Lee and Glenn." Rick said.

"Phew. Never a dull moment with you people, huh? How close is this prison you're living in?" Martinez said.

"Not far. Few minutes drive at most, assuming nothing slows us down." Rick said.

"That would be a miracle." Alice said. "So, this prison you guys live at...is it safe? I know we all hate the Governor and that horrible town. But I was able to sleep at night without worrying about an attack. Probably should've brought that up before...but I'd hate to lose that."

"Fences all around, watchtowers, sturdy buildings and an ass-load of firepower. Safe enough for your Majesty?" Kenny said, making her roll her eyes.

"Well, that seems pretty safe." Karen said.

"Trust me, lady, ain't no walkers getting in that place."

"Walkers?" Alice said.

"Yeah, walkers. That's what we call 'em." Rick said.

"It feels silly. Biters is much better, and more correct, since they kind of limp..."

"Wasn't me who came up with it." Rick smiled.

The Hyundai appeared in front of them. Maggie slowed down the vehicle, keeping a safe distance from the car in front of them.

"Good. Now let's go back home." Rick said.

* * *

Lilly strolled in front of the front gate, her sniper rifle dangling off her shoulder. The hordes had thinned out a bit, but there were still handfuls of them clawing at the fences. Their group could be back at any time, and she didn't exactly have anything better to do than watching the perimeter. Clementine leaned against the watchtower, her eyes riveted to the main road, hoping to see a car roll up to the prison and expecting Lee to hug her tight once he came back. Lilly let out a sigh, riddled with annoyance. Everything was so fucking quiet. Asides from the distant moans, the occasional wind or the chirping of a bird, nothing.

"It's so quiet." Lilly croaked. "It's easy to forget how loud the world used to be."

Clementine nodded. "It always quiet in my neighborhood. But sometimes we'd go to Atlanta and I complained about it all the time."

"Oh. I'd love to hear some traffic or the sound of a jumbo jet. That noise pollution used to be annoying. But at least...it meant that things were still normal."

"A jumbo jet? It would even be sweeter if we were all in it."

Lilly smiled at the little girl. Hell, she and the kids were one of the few reasons she didn't crawl in a hole and die. Clementine was a bit of a special fruit amongst the others, and her wits and intelligence often surpassed that of most kids her age that she had met. Lilly often kept an eye on the kids whenever they wandered about the main field, overseeing them from the watchtower. Before she could say something else, the revving of an engine and the crunch of gravel being steamrolled over reached their ears. Their gazes perked up towards the road, where a green Hyundai and an SUV headed towards them.

"It's them!" Clementine said.

Lilly got her keys and unlocked the chain on the gate, sliding it aside. Lee braked the vehicle in the driveway, hurtling out of the driver's seat. He glanced at the backseats. Molly had her head glued to the window, taking some deserved slumber. Her abdomen was treated with Alice's patchwork. Vince kept his hand on his bandaged side at all times, closing his eyes despite being awake. Lee turned to Glenn.

"Drive 'em up and get Hershel to take a look at 'em, I'll meet you in a sec."

"Lee!"

Clementine sprinted towards the thirty-eight year-old man. He squatted down and deadlocked with her in an asphyxiating hug, the fear of the unknown and the possibility of him being in harm's way flushing out of her system. Glenn drove the Hyundai up the slope towards the courtyard, with Maggie tailing him with her vehicle. Lee planted a kiss on Clementine's forehead.

"Thank God you're alright." Clementine said.

"Same thing goes for you, sweet pea." Lee said.

"Where are the others?" Lilly asked.

Lee detached from Clementine and stood on his feet, his mood from reuniting with his daughter vitiating as he scratched his bushy stubble. He had some unfortunate news to deliver.

"They're up in the SUV."

"And Daryl?"

Lee fell into silence, suspending his head. Lilly lifted her eyebrows, her ears reeling back, although the shift in her constantly deadened expression was almost imperceptible.

"Is he dead?"

"He's alive. But...something happened. We met up with his brother. And they went off."

Lilly dropped her lip, but the words got caught up in her throat. A painful frown misshaped his visage, but she quickly lowered his head, her face becoming impartial once more, with no emotion written in it. Lee gulped, fearing this fake emotionless act from her where she tried to hide any sort of remote emotion.

"Good for him." She said in a hoarse voice. "I'll go and keep watch."

"Lilly..."

Lilly spun around and marched into the watchtower without a word, slamming the door behind her. Lee sighed, before putting his hand on Clementine's shoulder and sauntering up the driveway with her. He had barely spoken to the woman in the past, but he was acquainted with her temper and ever since her father died, she wasn't the same. He saw nothing but a robot in her. But lately it appeared as though Daryl managed to spark up something else in her, even though such an occasion was rare. Clementine glanced past her shoulder at the watchtower with a pitiful gaze.

"What's wrong with Lilly?"

"There's nothing _wrong_ with Lilly, Clem. But she's just...dealing with a few things. You know."

"Yeah...I do..."

Lee and Clementine strolled into the courtyard. Vince leaned against the car while dragging breaths. Glenn crutched Molly into the edifice, leading her to their cell block. Travis folded his arms as Maggie, Beth and Billy encased together into a brotherly hug. Hershel stood on his crutches, turning to Glenn.

"Take her inside. I'll check on her in a minute." Hershel said.

Glenn nodded before disappearing into the building with Molly. Rick stumbled with fatigued footsteps towards the farmer, pinching his nose bridge. Beth looked away from her siblings and looked at Rick, jogging towards him and twining her arms around his neck. Rick exhausted a breath, almost being tipped over, not expecting the move from the young woman. His hesitating hands fluttered in the air for an instant, before he returned the hug. Travis' vigilante fisheye sprang towards the sheriff, a grunt leaving his lips. Beth took a step back, kissing him in his bearded cheek and looking him in the eyes. Travis widened his eyelids, his gut tingling. Beth left into the prison building with Maggie and Billy, leaving behind a dazzled Rick whose gaze flapped around the floor for a while. Travis marched towards him, jokingly punching in the shoulder.

"You lucky son of a whore."

Travis walked away, chuckling with a mixture of jokeful disdain and envy towards the man. Rick walked over towards Hershel, who grabbed his hands with both his palms, staring sternly into his eyes.

"You brought everyone back safe. You came through. As always." Hershel said. "Sounds like we have a new problem on our hands."

"You'd be right." Lee said, patting Clementine on the shoulder.

"You get a good look at him?" Hershel asked.

"He tortured Glenn and Maggie." Rick said. "He did things to Michonne...I think he raped her..."

"Man, zip it." Lee said, jerking his head towards Clementine before turning to her. "Listen, why don't you go inside and tell the others we're back? I'm sure Carl missed his dad."

Clementine nodded and jaunted away. Lee made sure she was out of earshot before he spoke again.

"This guy, he's a psycho." Lee said. "He might just be the worst we've come across yet. Michonne didn't say much, but it's obvious that he brutalized her. And if he raped her...fuck. What kind of sick mind does this kind of stuff? This kind of horrible things?"

"The kind this world creates." Hershel said, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes through the sky.

"How's my baby girl?" Rick said.

Hershel smiled. "Eats like a horse, sleeps like a rock." Hershel turned his gaze towards Martinez, Karen and Alice. "And it looks like we have guests."

"They'll be, uh, staying with us." Lee said.

* * *

Lee sat beside Molly, who was now laying on her bed. She had dozed off during the trip from exhaustion and he deemed that she deserved the rest. Her skin was pearly and shining with sweat, her jacket rolled and revealing the bandage that Alice had patched her up with, which had a blood stain in the left side of her abdomen. The nurse would surely be an asset in the future, and her diagnosis on her condition was positive. _She should be fine. The bullet went through, and if it didn't damage her organs, she'll live. She has a fever, though, but that'll pass._ Lee sometimes concerned himself with the woman, but he knew that she would soon be back to making her snarky and sarcastic quips. Plus, after so many months of losing people, he had learned to focus more on the hopes of what could come instead of concentrating on the menace of something that could not even be a threat. _She'll be fine._ Thinking otherwise would not be productive. Andrea rushed inside, making Lee click out of his trance.

"Oh, God, I just heard—is she alright?!"

"Good chances she'll make it."

Andrea sat at the edge of the bed, concern glistering in her eyes which were locked on the unconscious Molly. Lee smiled.

"She got hit while she covered us, as we escaped Woodbury." Lee said, reaching for the sniper rifle leaning against the wall and passing it to Andrea, who slung it on her shoulder. "That's yours."

Andrea chuckled. "She took good care of it?"

"She did. Got us out of that town."

"It's silly, really." Andrea said. "But she just...she reminds me of Amy. She didn't have it easy for her out there in Savannah. She told me she lost her sister as well, like me. I guess...we relate. I'm just glad she's with us."

Andrea placed her hand on top of Molly's. Lee examined her stare on the unconscious woman, which was a look of tenderness which he often saw Andrea posit upon Amy. Lee got up and walked out the door, leaving the two women alone.

"Best to leave her to rest afterwards." Lee said.

* * *

_Home sweet home. _Glenn sank into his mattress, the soft material injecting blissful dopamine into his veins. Just being off his feet was enough comfort. And knowing that he was at home, safe. No Southerner villain and his crew of brutes to torture him and his girlfriend. He wrapped his arm around Maggie's neck, who laid next to him with her head laying in his shoulder. But despite having left the fray a long time ago, he struggled to bear a smile. He thought a lot about what he told Hershel. He wasn't sure how Maggie was dealing with what she went through. What if she was hiding her pain? That poignant question left him uneasy.

He tried to come to ease with his demons. _He didn't rape her. Maggie is strong._ He thought about insisting further on what he had done to her, but held his tongue. He just wanted to put things behind him, and she surely wanted to as well. No point in torturing her any further with that inquisition. He let out a sigh, deciding to just mouth the thoughts that percussed his mind.

"Look, Maggie...what happened was screwed up. I wish we hadn't gone through it. But I don't want us to dwell on that. I don't that to affect us. Let's forget about Merle and the Governor, and just think about us."

Maggie looked up at him. Glenn met her gaze, wondering if his choice of words had been correct. Maggie sketched a smile.

"I'd like that. I don't want to ever think about these last few days."

Glenn released a long exhale, his worries being put to rest and his mind depleting of any cumbersome thoughts. He grinned like a fool at her, making her chuckle.

"Always with that stupid grin...let me turn that into a smile."

Maggie grasped his collar and tugged his head towards her, drawing herself closer to his lips, their eyes closing as they anticipated the warm kiss. Glenn snapped his eyelids open, withdrawing his head and sniffing the air repeatedly. The fumey odor of smoke reached his nostrils. Maggie opened her eyes, not feeling his lips against hers, her brows contorting as she tried to decipher as to why they he left her hanging and they weren't making out like wild lovebirds.

"You smell that? Is that smoke?"

"Yeah, don't worry about that. I'm sure they just started burning the bodies."

"Burning the bodies?! L—Let me get up!"

Glenn untangled from beneath his girlfriend, straightening his shirt as he sprinted out of the cell.

"Hey, where are you—? Glenn?!"

Glenn left her without an answer. Maggie stared into a blank with a dumbfounded visage stamped onto her face, left abandoned with a curious feeling in her bed.

* * *

Tyreese and Omid grabbed another corpse by the end of their limbs, swaying them back before tossing them into the burning pyre of slayed walkers. The zombies had grown too numerous outside the fences while their friends were away, so some of them had pierced their skulls through the fence. But they deemed that leaving their cadavers butted against the fences would degrade them over time, so they dragged them inside and burnt them. Omid reached for the ankles of the next body, but then Martinez walked up to them with a faint smile. Omid straightened and wiped his forehead, while Tyreese narrowed his frown at seeing him.

"Hey, there. The name's Caesar Martinez. I don't suppose you need a hand?"

"Of course. Help us throw the rest of these bodies into the fire." Tyreese said.

Martinez nodded and bent over, grasping the nearest corpse and dragging it towards the fire. Tyreese and Omid returned to their task, taking the next body.

"I swear they're getting heavier." Omid said. "I know they can't be, but I swear they are."

"I hear you." Tyreese said,.

"Did you talk to Michonne after she got back? She probably went through some shit while she was out."

Tyreese lowered his head and averted his gaze, not replying. Martinez scratched his head, not saying anything as well as he lugged another corpse into the pyre.

"Yeah, I don't know the full story and I know if I ever will. I've let her know...if she needs someone to talk to, I'd love to be that person for her. To be honest, I can't read that woman at all. So, y'know...business as usual."

Omid waved his collar back and forth, cooling some of the heat accumulated inside his hoodie. Tyreese beamed his head towards another corpse. Omid nodded at him, but he remained in place, his eyes catching a figure that ran towards them at a frantic pace. Glenn. He ran down the driveway towards them, his hands in a cusp around his lips as he screamed at them.

"Guys, wait! Stop for a second!"

Glenn halted in front of them, his palms leaning on his knees as he vacuumed breaths into his lungs.

"What is it, Glenn? What do you need?" Tyreese said.

"Don't burn...don't burn any of the...don't burn any of the women, please. I need to—I want to look them over."

Tyreese pressed down his eyebrows, while Omid recoiled his head and puckered his forehead, his jaw hanging.

"Dude...not cool. I did not think you were into that shit. I won't even ask."

* * *

Michonne sat in her bed, facing the wall in front of her while her eyes were locked in oblivion. She squirmed from one side to the other, while voices hammered her brain and battered the inner walls of his skull, reprimanding her for everything she had done. She curled her fists, her heart paining her with remorse and some sort of bleakness at the same time. Her mind was trapped in the things she had done to the Governor. The drilling. The fingernail mangling. The amputation. The anal violation. The eye gauging. And finally the castration.

"It was just...it was uncalled for...that's all I'm saying. He did deserve it. Of course he did. I know that. I absolutely know that. I wasn't prepared to see...I mean, what you did to him was...you may have gone too far. A little, yes. I composed myself. After I thought about it, remembering all that he...that he did to me, yes. It was a little satisfying. I've just never seen that side of you is all. It was unsettling..."

She heard footsteps outside her doorway. Her mouth shut in an instant, her gaze flickering towards the entrance. Andrea stood there once again. The two women stared at one another. Michonne kept her same old expression, but this time Andrea had a neutral visage, and she didn't say a word. She wasn't looking for another argue after the last time she confronted her about her conversations with whoever she spoke with.

"Uh..."

Michonne didn't knew what to say, besides that grumble. Andrea shook her head and walked away.

* * *

_Fuck. This one doesn't have it either. _Glenn shifted his attention towards the next dead female, among a pack of about other seven corpses. Being so upclose to them, rummaging among their dead bodies, mangled his nostrils with their rotten stench, and the rag that was wrapped around his skull didn't help very much. He repeated the drill on another dead woman. Get a corpse, check its fingers, then onto the next one. He raised the cadaver's hand. His eyes lit up. The Holy Grail presented itself before him.

"Oh—Oh, man! Hah! I can't believe it! I found it! I can't believe I found it! This is _it_!"

Glenn smiled as he slid out a wedding ring from the dead zombie's ring finger, before holding it in front of himself between his fingertips.

* * *

The cafeteria was crowded with the entire group amassed within it. Rick had called a meeting for everyone, one that was necessary to discuss the new adversity. The sheriff cleared his throat, standing in front of his friends who sat around the multitude of tables, their stern gazes positioned upon him.

"We've got a new problem. You already know who the Governor is and that his town Woodbury has a powerful army. You know what they did to us. They're well-stocked with equipment from a National Guard station. He tortured us, wanted to take this prison for himself. And he knows where we are. Michonne took care of the Governor. But we don't know if he's dead or not. But the twist is...Merle was in Woodbury. In case you haven't been with us since Atlanta, he's Daryl's brother. And they...took off together." Rick paused for a moment, hearing shocked murmurs among his people. "The thing is, I'm sure Woodbury is coming. Their close proximity to us makes me believe that they'll eventually find us."

"So what do you suggest we do? Do you expect us to move?" Christa asked.

"No. That's not an option. Y'all know what we went through to find this place. We can't think of abandoning it."

"If this man comes for us, we might not have a choice. I'd rather be out there than have any more of us die." Hershel said.

"We're not leaving this place. I don't think anyone wants to." Rick said, assuming that the silence that followed meant that there were no objections towards staying in the prison.

"Rick's right. This place is too good to give up. It's safe, or at least the closest thing to it." Omid said.

"What about the National Guard station they mentioned?" Kenny said, turning to Alice and Martinez. "Can't we raid that for supplies as well?"

"I dunno, I've never been there. But they've always mentioned it as if it were close." Alice said.

"I've been there." Martinez said. "We took most of what was left, but it was so much that we had to leave a few things behind. It's definitely worth a trip to amp up your ammo supply."

"You said this Governor person may be dead?" Dale said, turning to Michonne. "How can you be so uncertain? What exactly did you do to him, Michonne?"

"Right now all we need to focus on is that they're out there." Rick said. "We need to worry about the details later. It could be weeks, it could be months. We just need to make sure that when they get here...we're ready for them."


	69. Home, II

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 - WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 69 - HOME, II**

**AUTHOR NOTE: Happy (late) birthday to me, motherfuckers! Yep, that's right, it's been two years since I uploaded the first chapter to this story and we embarked on this shitty adventure together. Now, give me gifts! And by gifts, I mean reviews! It's absolutely stunning to me that I've spent this much time devoted to this story, and even more once I think that there are people that have stuck around after such a long time. I really appreciate all the feedback and I appreciate that it allows me to continue writing this story. ****I feel like that I was a "kid" in the writing game when I started posting this story, but ever since, I've become a grown-ass man and progressively I've matured into a writer I can be proud of. So, thank you for allowing that to happen. Let's see if we last another year!**

**Also, haha! 69 chapters!**

* * *

**Watchmen1985: "i know its a little early but i just wanna say happy anniversary to this story" "****i know it may be a little late for this but i just realized that you haven't added the vatos group into the story yet if you don't know who i am talking about its the group that was in atlanta acting as gang members but they were really protecting the elderly people in the nursing home area i was thinking since your way past atlanta could you add the group encounter them somewhere else like after the prison falls****"**

**Answer: Thanks, man! You're the best! I had actually forgotten that it would be two years since the beginning, and you're the one that reminded me of it. To be honest, the fact that you actually noticed that means a lot, because it means you're invested into the story enough to check the publish date xD Also, the vatos won't appear, I thought that was obvious. I wanted them to appear back in Episode 1, but I'll shamefully admit that at the time I was an awful writer and not that good as a story-teller, and made many choices that I regret to this day.**

**Guest: "Thank you for not using vince as a redshirt like Oscar makes the story less generic. I just want to ask that you go a different direction with Martinez rather then the betrayal one."**

**Answer: You're welcome. I wanted to end that with a cliffhanger and make the reader wonder if Vince would really die, since he isn't necessary to the story. But I always intended for him to live, since he still hasn't gotten enough character development and y'all know I do my best to avoid redshirts.**

**Vinnie D:**** "****When the time comes, please kill Carol instead of Axel.****"**

**Answer:**** Wow, man, great fucking suggestion. Will do.**

* * *

Daryl stared down the scope of his crossbow, sweeping the branches of the lanky and skinny trees. Looking through the red visor, he analyzed each treetop with microscopic attention, hoping that his keen eye would spot a squirrel tail or a bird's beak sticking out from cover. He couldn't afford spending yet another day without hunting anything. But there he was, sighing and lowering his crossbow, with yet another unfateful hunt.

That forest was barren of any life, and it seemed as if there was no game around. Just like the four days that he spent in the woods with his brother, dragging their feet across the dirt, living under rocks and getting itches from mosquito bites. He turned his head around towards Merle, who had his back turned to him and his hands holding onto his crotch, splashes being heard as he watered a bush with his piss.

"Ain't nothing out here but mosquitoes and ants." Daryl said.

"Patience, little brother." Merle said. "Sooner or later, a squirrel is bound to scurry across your path."

"Even so, that ain't much food."

"More than nothing." Merle shrugged.

"We'd have better luck going through one of them houses we passed back on the turnoff."

"Is that, uh, what your new friends taught ya? Hmm? How to loot for booty?" Merle said, zipping up his trousers and returning to his brother's side.

"Man, we been at it for hours. Why don't we find a stream, try to find some fish?"

"I think you're just trying to lead me back to the road, man. Get me over to that prison."

"They got shelter. Food. A pot to piss in. Might not be a bad idea."

"For you, maybe. Ain't gonna be no damn party for me."

"Everyone will get used to each other."

"They're all dead. Makes no difference."

"How can you be so sure?" Daryl said.

"Right about now the Governor's probably hosting a housewarming party where he's gonna bury what's left of your pals." Merle said.

"Michonne took care of him."

"The black bitch didn't say she kill him."

Daryl sunk his gaze to the ground. He swallowed his saliva, his muscles tensing with the idea that his friends were marked for death. He was sure that his brother was just exaggerating, but his group could still be in danger. Maybe they should have just went back to the prison. Maybe the Governor was still alive and ready for revenge. Daryl tried to think about their situation in more detail, but his brother cut his train of thought short, jerking his chin towards the distance.

"Now, let's hook some fish. C'mon."

Merle marched further into the wilderness, croaking as he gurgled with his tongue before spitting onto the grass. Daryl remained in place for a while, thoughts about his group lingering in the back of his mind, but he quickly stored them away. Daryl gurgled his saliva with his tongue, before spitting onto the grass and trailing after his brother's footsteps.

* * *

Rick leaned against the railing of the pedestrian bridge that he stood on, staring into the horizon. The bridge connected their building where they holed up in to the administration edifice on the edge of the complex, and it had a great view over the frontal section of the prison. Most of the main yard was visible from there, along with the courtyard below him, the front fences and the treeline. If they placed pallets or table-tops leaning against the balustrade for cover, it would make a great sniper's nest in the event of an attack. He grabbed the pair of binoculars that dangled off his neck and scoped out the landscape.

He focused on the outer fence. Troupes of walkers had accumulated over time, who slid their crooked fingers through the ligaments, their teeth chewing on the metal. Back in the day, he distinguished every tiny detail in each walker, but nowadays, after seeing them for so long, they all looked the same to him. He examined the walkers, mumbling a headcount to himself. _Little over twenty. _Definitely a worrying amount. One that had to be handled. His gaze turned to the watchtower, seeing Lilly guarding the prison atop it. He stretched out his lips. She had mainly spent her days up there, never leaving her nest and not talking to anyone. A pinch of preoccupation hit him, but he suppressed it in an instant. Something was wrong with her, but that was none of his business.

Rick flicked his magnified gaze towards the treeline, peeking between the trees and the foliage as if he was searching for scouts or guards doing recon on their home. It had been some time, and the Governor hadn't reared his head yet. Maybe that meant he was dead and they were safe. Maybe it didn't. A white figure stood out, making his hands freeze and steadying the binoculars. A woman in a white dress, whose raven hair flew in the wind and whose back was turned towards him.

Rick recoiled his head from the binoculars. Audible breaths throbbed out of his lips. He rolled his eyes onto the floor, before wiping the sweaty bags from underneath them. _You haven't slept much. It's okay. Don't look back. _He solidified in his stance, holding the binoculars down toward the treeline, while his visage faced the ground. His heart beat louder. He couldn't fight back the temptation. He looked into the binoculars once more. His chest grew warmer as he felt like a cold liquid dripped down his spine. She wasn't there anymore. He withdrew his head, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips as he let out a stammering sigh.

"You gotta stop seeing her...she's not there...she's gone..."

Rick drew his breaths with caution, each one becoming calmer after the previous one. He straighted his head once more, catching a presence through the corner of his eye. He looked towards his side. Karen stood beside him, scratching her head and sheepishly blowing air into her cheeks. Rick turning his gaze back towards the treeline, wondering what she would want. She didn't seem to be a bad person, and while it seemed easy for him to just tell her off and ask her to go away, it didn't seem fair. She was staying with them, that was for sure, and he wanted to be on good terms with anyone that lived under the same roof as him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to...interrupt." Karen said, thinking of her next words.

"It's okay." Rick said.

"I didn't quite get a chance to thank you."

"For what?"

"Well, taking me in, of course."

Rick chuckled. "Perhaps you shouldn't thank me. I only gave you the chance to tag along because I was afraid you'd run to the Governor and tell him we were escaping if you stayed."

"You're always so suspicious of people?"

Rick chuckled again. "You really haven't been out there, have you?"

"Not really. I was in Woodbury since the beginning."

"Then you don't understand. Everyone beyond these fences is trying to kill you or steal from you, until proven otherwise."

Karen rubbed her shoulder, uncomfortable with the thought that everybody was outside the fences were out to get them. Not being able to trust anyone with certainty made it seem like life was unliveable. But she rapidly dismissed her thoughts, not wanting to plunge into some kind of mental, philosophical debate against herself.

"I don't think that's true." Karen said. "But, whatever. Anyhow, thanks."

"Don't mention it. Keep pulling your weight, you'll still be welcomed here."

Karen nodded. "You were talking all alone. I overheard what you told Alice back in Woodbury...I won't ask you about it, but just...are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm just dealing with my own...stuff...dealing with my own things..."

* * *

"You like it?"

Lee smirked, leaning against the workbench in the underground workshop. Martinez stood by his side, his arms folded while a grin adorned his face. Lee relished the renewed sight of his stump. Instead of a bandaged, useless forearm, he now had a metal prosthesis installed in it, with a knife mounted on a rail at the end. The prosthesis was a tube that enfolded his forearm, strapped by metal hinges to his elbow. He moved his arm around, bending his elbow and getting used to the weight of the metal. His stump used to hinder him in combat, but with the added bayonet, it would turn into an asset.

"Of course I like it. You did this?" Lee said.

"Well, you know, Alice helped me a lot." Martinez said.

"Gotta say, Caesar, this is impressive. It's really gonna help me. Thanks."

Martinez nodded while simpering. Lee thrust the blade into the air, pretending that he was stabbing the eye socket of a walker. The past days, his suspicions towards the former Woodbury soldier had remained anchored and he rarely left his sight for long, even after he had worked his ass off in his duties. Taking care of walkers, burning their bodies, even cooking a spicy bean stew the previous day. But after receiving such a gift from him, he forgot all about it, his suspicions being replaced with gratitude.

"You know, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something."

"What is it?" Lee said, not turning his gaze towards him as he kept slowly hacking the air with a faint grin.

"It's about Woodbury."

Lee halted his arm, his smile vanishing and his visage stiffing at the mention of the town. He frowned, now looking towards the man.

"Go on."

"Well, I was thinking, maybe we could go back for the people in Woodbury. Not the bad people, of course. Bring back the women, the children, you know, the fami—"

"No."

The answer crashed on the room like an anvil, cutting off his statement. Martinez gesticulated his hand while speaking, but it now froze in the air when silence imposed itself. His eyelids narrowed, and so did Lee's, as the two men locked their stares. Lee enlarged his nostrils. Was he truly volunteering to bring innocent people from Woodbury to the prison from the goodwill in his heart? Or was it an excuse that exploited his generous heart to go back to the villainous town and alert the soldiers of their position? The trust that Lee had in Martinez peaked not even a minute ago, but now it descended to the same level as before, perhaps even lower.

"But, Lee—"

"I said no. And that's final. You're not going back to Woodbury."

Martinez sighed and lowered his head, as if he accepted his defeat. But Lee knew for sure that the idea lingered on his mind. He tightened his fist, unsure of what to make of him. That fear of the unknown was the biggest threat for him. The one that would force his hand in case he didn't obey.

"Hey, look at me, Caesar."

Martinez glared up at him.

"Forget about it. Don't get any ideas in your head. Please. Don't force me to make a hard choice. Get what I mean?"

Martinez narrowed his frown. "Yes."

* * *

Ben strapped on the last pad of riot gear, before vaping out a breath and shifting his gaze towards the walkers in front of him, clawing at the fence that separated them from him. He glanced down at his body, feeling weighed down by the black pads and Kevlar material that covered his body, but almost smirked at the badass look of it, were it not for his growing fear and the fact that he was far from 'badass'. Travis stood next to him, suited up just like him, with their machetes laying by their feet.

Tyreese and Karen stood near them, with crowbars in their fists. Ben picked up his machete from the ground, sighing as he flipped the blade around in his hand. Travis had wanted to contribute in some way and had the idea to go outside with the suits and take down the accumulating walkers, and of course, he dragged Ben with him. He was frightful of the walkers like always, and that fear seemed to slowly decline as he got used to them more and more, as the days went by. Shooting them from a few feet away wasn't an issue. But going in face-to-face, melee, made his torso flutter with agonizing anticipation. He told himself that he needed to toughen up, after all of his past fuck-ups. Especially because Travis would bust his balls by forcing him to face his fears if he didn't try to.

"Are you sure you're ready to go out there?" Tyreese asked.

"Ben might have some bladder control issues." Travis chuckled, making Ben roll his eyes. "But we got this."

"Karen and I will be on the inside, taking out the ones on the front. Anything goes wrong or you think you can't handle it, come back inside."

"Why can't we just kill them on the inside through the fence?" Ben said.

"Because we got this gear and we'll get things done faster this way." Travis said.

"Not to mention that we can't leave the bodies piled up at the fence." Tyreese said. "It'll leave pressure on the fence and might weaken it with time."

"Don't try to squeeze your way out of this." Travis said.

"I was just saying..." Ben said.

"Careful out there. You got the armor, but the unpadded areas might tear if a walker bites on hard enough. And watch the neck area." Tyreese said.

"Got it." Travis said.

"Are you sure we should be letting the kids go out there with all the biters?" Karen said, looking at Tyreese.

"Hey, I'm not their dad, and they could use some training with the walkers." Tyreese said. "Those dead things don't spare anyone."

Travis put on his helmet, sliding down the reflective visor that hid his face before picking his machete up. Ben imitated him, putting his helmet on and pretending that he had slipped inside the skin of the Terminator and that the walkers would be a meager threat to him. The thought didn't stabilitate his posture a whole lot. The two teenagers headed for the gate, opening a chasm and squeezing outside before closing the passageway. Ben drew a breath, feeling like he had stepped out into the real world.

He turned towards the fence that stretched out to his left, where the walkers piled up. Tyreese and Karen rattled the fence on their side, leaving most of the walkers magnetized to them. But around half a dozen zombies lurking further away from the two distractors shambled towards the two teenagers, their heads titled down and their milky eyes fixating them. Travis hesitated for a second, but built his nerve and charged at the nearest one, bucking it to a knee with a kick to the kneecap, before plunging the blade into the top of its skull, its whitened eyes rolling back. Ben shook his head, dismissing his fear, before targeting a shirtless male walker and jogging towards it.

Ben ran at his target, who grew closer with each leaping footstep. Travis backed away further from his friend, circling around the horde and taking down other walkers, despite keeping an eye on him, expecting him to get himself in a sticky situation. The shirtless zombie revolved his eyes towards Ben, making gelid eye contact with him. Ben gulped, slowing down a bit, before throwing a sloppy swing at the undead creature.

The blade lodged against the side of its neck, stopped by the resistance of the hard vertebrae. The walker flailed its arms towards Ben while being nailed in place by the machete. Ben's visage constrained as he clasped onto the machete handle, trying to steady it to keep the zombie back. In a fragment of a second, his brain calculated the possible strategies. Letting go of the machete would mean allowing the walker to lunge forward at him, so that wasn't an option.

He recoiled with dragged steps while holding onto the machete, until his spine clang against the metal fence and the walker slid further down the blade, its face colliding against the visor of his helmet. Ben blared a scream that was muffled by his helmet, just as another walker pinned him against the fence, chewing his left pauldron. Tyreese, Karen and Travis sprang their gazes towards Ben, but the latter quickly returned to killing the walkers in front of him, while slowly making his way towards his friend. Tyreese rushed towards the spot Ben was in, sliding his crowbar through the fence and hollowing out the eye-socket of the walker biting his pauldron.

Ben glanced at the zombie that withered on the grass, before turning to the one that still invested towards him. He let go of the machete, placing his palms on its chest and shoving it away. The walker stumbled onto the ground, the blade hitting the dirt and sliding off its neck. Ben darted towards the machete, fishing it from the ground and stabbing the face of walker repeatedly, blood splashing with each thrust. He halted, leaning on his knees and panting.

"You okay, kid?!" Tyreese asked.

"Yeah...I'm good!" Ben said.

"Watch out, that's not all!"

Ben straightened, turning to the remaining walkers. Karen and Tyreese had taken out most of them, with bodies now slouched against the fence. Travis handled a remaining duo, drilling their eye-sockets with his blade, while two walkers limped towards the whimpier teenager. Ben took a deep breath, wiping some of the muck from his visor, before swiveling the machete around in his fist and marching towards the closest walker. He stiffened his stance, foreseeing the attack in his mind. He drilled the nasal cavity of the walker, pulling the blade out quickly and watching as it body fell to the dirt. He spun towards the other one, repeating the exercise and terminating its life easily. Ben let out an exhale, turning to his friend who had just finished clearing the walkers on his end.

"Good going, guys. Now c'mon inside." Tyreese said.

Tyreese opened the gate, and the two teenagers rushed inside. Ben felt his legs shaky, from the adrenaline of another close call. But his boosted confidence gave him a nervous smile. It was actually somewhat easy to kill them if he didn't panic and just calculated his moves, making his thrusts rigorous and deadly. Travis shut the gate behind them. Ben examined his pauldron. The bite marks barely tore the tissue. The two adults walked towards them.

"You shouldn't have gone out there." Karen admonished in a heated timbre. "You shouldn't be risking your lives like that. It wouldn't be amusing to see you dying, especially at your age."

"I don't the issue." Travis chuckled, wiping his forehead. "We handled it well."

"Ben almost got bit!"

"But...that's why we got the suits."

Karen sighed, rolling her eyes. "Whatever. Just be safer next time."

"Got it, mom."

Travis patted Ben on the back, who had a persistent smile and for once didn't have a piss stain between his legs. The two friends marched back up the driveway, while Tyreese turned to Karen.

"Wanna go have lunch?" Tyreese said.

Karen nodded. "Yeah, I could eat."

* * *

Glenn held the wedding ring in his fist, against his chest. His feet led him to the old farmer's cell, but his mind was aloof from his footsteps, his eyes raised high as he pictured the scene in his mind, like a lucid dream. He would get on a knee. He would pop the question. Surprise and delight would illuminate her face. And she would say yes. His eyes lowered as he walked inside Hershel's cell, who was sitting on the bed. Hershel turned to the smiling boy, reaching for his crutches and hopping onto his feet.

"Hershel? You got a sec? I kinda need to talk to you about something."

"What is it, Glenn? Everything okay?" Hershel said, looking at his clenched fist. "What's that in your hand?"

Glenn stretched out his fingers, revealing the ring in his palm. Hershel beamed with a joyful smile, looking at Glenn and shaking his head. _Why are you even asking me this? _

"C'mere, son!"

Hershel stretched out his arms, stabilized on his crutches. Glenn stepped forward, hugging the man and being received with his tight, loving grip. Glenn smiled, glad that he got such a positive reaction from him. Hershel patted him on the back, nodding repeatedly.

"If you're asking for my approval, you've got it. Keep her happy. Keep her safe. God bless you. Oh, and please, don't get her pregnant. Not here, not in this world. Not yet, at least. Not until things are safer."

"Yeah, of course. Thanks, Hershel."

* * *

Tyreese and Karen sat across each other in the cafeteria, stuffing their empty stomachs with cold, sticky ratatouille. With the sun somewhat reaching its peak, they assumed it was lunch time, but who could know for sure? The canteen was crowded with the rest of the group, making the room echo with conversations, giving it life. Tyreese's gaze swam around the room, noticing a few absences. Lee and Axel, who had taken some food to their wounded friends. But the person who worried him the most was Michonne. She had been moping for days now, and he never caught a glimpse of her eating. He thought about bringing a plate to her, but she would just refuse it. He turned back to his food, with a gloomy look. Karen looked around the room, trying to find the reason behind his wafting gaze.

"You looking for someone?" Karen asked.

"Michonne. I'm worried she ain't eating. I wouldn't like it if she's neglecting herself." Tyreese said.

Karen seemed confused for a while. "Oh, you mean the girl with the katana?"

"Yeah. Well, you met her back in Woodbury. You seen how she is."

"There's something about her...like she's superhuman and all. She was all beat up, and I can only guess at what the Governor might have done to her. But there we are, setting her free, and all she does is stand up and march to his apartment to kill him. A normal person wouldn't walk straight the state she was in."

"You can't read that woman. She's a mystery. Always changing, her intentions are unpredictable, you never quite know what she's feeling."

"You close to her?"

"Far from it. But she isn't close to anyone in particular, I think. I think I've gotten to know her the most compared to the others. But, yeah, she doesn't show what she feels, ever, so...I dunno. And with this whole Governor thing..."

Karen shook her head. "I can't believe I stayed in Woodbury for so long. I always thought the Governor was shady. Those military trucks he had, there were bulletholes in them. And blood. But not dark blood, like the zombies. I guess deep down, I had an idea on who he was. But I decided to not think about it. Because I wanted to feel safe. I didn't want a reason to leave those walls. Haven't you ever not paid attention to something important, even though you should have?"

Tyreese sighed. "Yeah. I have."

* * *

Vince looked away from the roof of his bunk-bed, which he now spent hours staring at, and glanced at the tray of food that Axel posited on the floor beside him. The bearded biker reached his hand out, as if he realized his mistake and wanted to put the tray on his bed, but Vince raised his hand. He bent down, grabbing the plate and the spork and hoisting it to his mattress. He smiled, somewhat grateful that he hadn't been forgotten in his cell. While he didn't exactly see eye-to-eye with the others, he had some affinity towards Axel. He was the only one alive that had spent months with him locked up in that cafeteria, and his sense of humor often lightened things up during their solitary time.

"Man, thanks for bringing me this."

"You're welcome. Anytime. Also, I brought you a little something else to heal your wounds faster."

Axel pulled out a Playboy magazine that was tucked into his belt and tossed it to Vince. He picked it up and snorted, throwing it to the side and returning to his meal.

"You serious?" Vince deadpanned.

"I'll make your bed-rest less tedious, you follow me?" Axel said. "I mean, you got free time and nothing to do, stuck to a bed. Why don't you like it? Are you like Andrew now?"

"I'm not using it."

"Fine, be my guest. Give it back, then."

"No, I'm confiscating it." Vince said in a serious tone, despite being jokeful. "I don't want you to cum-stain our cell beyond recognition."

Axel smiled. "You bastard. I'll get it back somehow, you'll see. But until then, what am I supposed to do to pass the time?"

"Anything, as long as you keep your hands away from your junk."

Axel wiggled his eyebrows. "Well, I have been trying my charm with that lady, Carol..."

"Yeah, keep dreaming." Vince smiled. "Now get the fuck out so I can eat."

* * *

Martinez walked into the infirmary, halting at the entryway. The place was a pure mess. The beds were dusty and stained with blood, one of the curtains surrounding a bed having been torn down from its pins. Two dead doctors laid on the ground, with knife incisions in their foreheads and a few larvae skidding within their nasal cavities. A former inmate, whom had surely been a patient in the nursery before the turn, was also stretched out on the ground, a pool of dried blood beneath his head. Alice stood among the chaos, scratching her head as if she wondered where to start first.

"Looks like you've got your hands full here." Martinez said with a weak chuckle.

"This place is a mess." Alice said, turning towards him. "But I'll be able to get it back to its former glory. Everyone has a job around here, and I guess this is the one I was assigned."

"I can take the corpses outside on my way out for you."

"I'd appreciate that. Those things are heavy and they're stinking up the place."

Martinez walked towards the woman, standing in front of her. "You, uh, you okay about Stevens? You two spent a lotta time working together. I know you were close."

"I'm going to be a bit lost in this place without him." Alice said, her head shrinking as she ran her fingers down her ginger braid. "He was like a mentor to me."

"And the coot had balls too." Martinez snickered. "The only one among us with the nerve to stand up to the Governor."

"He was a brave man. Guess that's why I always admired him."

"And I'm sure he admired you too. I'd bet whatever I have left that he died without any regrets after teaching you what he knew. After having such a great apprentice. I'm sure of it."

Alice sighed. "It's just going to suck without him."

Martinez stared into her eyes, that faced the ground and glistened with a nostalgic sorrow. He gulped down, his throat drying as he placed a hand on her shoulder. The future was unpredictable and frightening, knowing what could happen to them if the thugs from Woodbury ever reached them, especially without the elder doctor's guidance for the young woman. She had confessed such to him two days ago, when she came to his cell and the two just talked, immersed in the nocturnal night and hearing each other's words, since there was no one else to listen to them.

"Well, I'm here." Martinez said.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his other arm around her and holding her petite stature towards him. She sunk her head into his rigid chest, her breaths becoming lighter and mellowing with his touch. She slid her arms around his abdomen. Her stomach fluttered, hearing his heartbeat pound against her ear. She sniffled, raising her head and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks."

* * *

Carol walked up the perch stairs on the cell block. She reminded herself to take a look at Judith, after seeing Beth taking care of her. They still hadn't a proper crib for her, and had to get by with the cardbox placed atop the foldable table on the perch. The past few days had been good to Rick, who had spent a lot more time with the baby since he was less occupied. Carol reached the top of the stairs, stopping once she saw Kenny craddling the infant, baby-talking to her instead of Beth.

"Oh...hey, Kenny." Carol said in a rather serious timbre.

"Hey." Kenny said, barely flashing her a glance. "I was just looking after the kiddo."

"I can see that. You've been looking after her every time Rick isn't around."

Kenny glared at her. "So? What's wrong with wanting to look after _him_?"

"It's a _her_, Kenny. He's not your boy. He's not Duck."

Kenny cracked his lips, revealing his grinding teeth. "Hey, you're treading on—"

He ceased his sentence, lowering his visage with a spasm of pain. Carol sighed, thinking that maybe she had taken one step too far.

"Look, sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. It's just that I think you're going a little overboard."

Kenny snorted, as he kept craddling the kid. Carol exhaled, not knowing what else to say to him. Rick climbed the stairs onto the perch, tiptoeing past the mattresses that belonged to Daryl and Lilly, approaching Kenny and looking down at Judith with a smile, whose eyes were shut. _Sleeps like a rock. _He looked at the foldable table where there were two empty milk bottles next to her sleeping box. _Eats like a horse._

"She's a beauty." Rick smiled, staring at his baby girl who was softly swayed in his arms. He straightened his smile, looking up at Kenny. "Uh, Kenny, can...can I hold her?"

"Oh." Kenny said, snapping his head towards him. "Yeah, yeah, here."

Kenny passed the baby girl onto his arms, in a slow motion as if he was handling porcelain. Rick grinned at his kid, who opened her eyes and undulated her legs, reaching for his nose with her chunky arms. He waved her around like waves agitating the sea, a bushy smile curving his lips. Kenny scratched his hair, before walking away with hurried footsteps. Rick frowned at the distancing man, but shifted his focus to his little Judy, a simper sprouting once again in his lips.

"Something with Kenny?" Rick asked.

"I think Judith reminds him of his son." Carol said. "He acts like she's Duck. I don't know. He just seems a bit too obsessed with her. As if he always has to be around her, it's not normal."

"Carol, what is normal anymore? There ain't no normalcy anymore. No strange anymore. People cope with things their own way. But there ain't any rules anymore. Kenny's just doing his own thing. And to be honest, I don't have an issue having a trustworthy tough guy like him watching over my girl when I'm not around."

* * *

Lee strolled in the perimeter of the main yard with Clementine by his side, chaperoning her with his hand on her back. The walkers on the exterior of the prison had thinned out, with only two or three clawing at the fence, along with a few lonesome ones shambling around the treeline. The last few days had been great, with no active threat out for their heads. Lee had particularly appreciated the time that he had managed to spend with Clementine, but he knew that time always ended up coming short, so he seized each opportunity that he had with the little girl.

"Were you okay while I was gone?" Lee said.

"It was scary, not knowing where you were." Clementine said.

"I can imagine. But, you know, things are unpredictable. I can't make promises anymore. Sometimes, we might be away from one another. And we can't control that. But I'll do my damnest to try and avoid that."

"I slept in Molly's cell. I was scared to be alone."

"Molly?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm. What do you think of her? You like her?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I played go-fish with her the other day. She was annoyed I kept winning." She chuckled. "I'm glad she came with us."

"Well, I am too. I'm glad that she's going to pull through. Back in Woodbury, I wasn't sure if she would be okay. But she's tough."

"Did you...did you kill the Governor? Is he dead?"

Lee scratched his head. "We don't know. But, no, I didn't kill him. Why do you ask?"

"He's a bad man, right? And if you had to kill him...I'd understand."

Lee opened his mouth, not expecting such an answer from the girl. He fell short on his words. The two continued their stroll in silence, until the duo crossed paths with Tyreese, who stood by the inner fence with his hands in his pockets. There was a pile of ashes next to him, probably a pyre of walkers they had burned earlier.

"Hey, Ty. You been dealing with the walkers?" Lee said.

"Yeah." Tyreese said. "They pile up on the fences, and we thought that would weaken the fences if we just left them to pile. Those two teenagers went outside, handled most of them. Me and Karen, we stabbed 'em through the fence, then we burned their bodies."

"You happen to see Martinez around?"

"Martinez? That tough guy you brought back with you? Lee, he's a monster. He dragged all the bodies with me. The guy never tires. But no, I haven't seen him for hours. He should be inside."

"Hours? I would've seen him inside, we just came from there."

Lee scratched his head, pacing around. Clementine and Tyreese directed their gazes towards the man, whose visage constrained as he muttered gibberish to himself.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Lee blurted out, making Clementine flinch.

"Whoa, Lee, what's wrong?" Tyreese said. "Guy must be sleeping somewhere, he was working his ass off."

"I didn't trust him at first! Dammit, he told me he wanted to go back to Woodbury for his people, but I didn't think he would actually do it! I watched him the whole way here, see if he was leaving a trail, nothing! The way he acted, talked, I trusted him!"

"What are you talking about?!"

"Martinez is gone! He's gone back to Woodbury! His stupidity is going to lead those psychos in that town right to us!"

Lee sprang his eyes towards the driveway. The green Hyundai was parked near the gate, next to the Dixon brothers' motorcycle. He sprinted towards the gate. Tyreese had his thoughts blurred out from the rashness of the man, not fully understanding what was going on and what went through his mind. He chased after him, the only thing he thought up of doing. Clementine stayed riveted in her position, her lip drooped as she stared at her mentor's frenzy in paralysis.

"What are you doing?!"

"Watch Clementine for me! I'm going after him! Martinez told me that he wanted to go back to Woodbury and bring back some of the women and kids. But what if that was just a disguise for his intentions?! I have to find him. He'll be going back the way we came from. I can catch up to him, easy!"

"Then, what?!"

"I stop him."

Lee pushed the gate open. He dashed towards the car, yanking back the door and stepping into the driver's seat. He sparked up the car, the engine letting out a mechanical grunt. He twisted the wheels towards the entrance, rolling towards it. Tyreese waved his arms at him, but he didn't stop the car and just speeded out of the prison, ignoring the man's warnings and shouts.

"Lee, you can't do this alone! You can't do this! Lee!"

* * *

Merle and Daryl advanced for hours in the forest, one step after the other, each one taking them closer to nowhere. The declining sun indicated that it was afternoon. Daryl kept his eyes watchful for any predators around them, but with such a long and uneventful trek, he couldn't avert getting lost in his thoughts. He thought a lot about his friends, reminding himself of the hardships he had endured with them throughout the apocalypse. Despite the nostalgia and thinking it was a pity to lose them, he forgot about them. Merle was his only family now, just like always. Yeah, he was. The two had endured hardships together long before the outbreak, and nowadays, things had not changed. He turned his eyes back to his front, hearing the splooshes of running water in the distance.

"Smells to me like the Sawhatchee Creek." Merle said.

"Nah, we didn't go west enough." Daryl said. "There's a river down there, it's got to be the Yellow Jacket."

"You have a stroke, boy? We ain't never even come close to Yellow Jacket."

"We didn't go west. Just a little south. That's what I think."

"Know what I think? I think you lost your sense of direction."

"Yeah, we'll see."

"What ya wanna bet?"

"I don't wanna bet nothin'. It's just a body of water. Why's everything gotta be a competition with you?"

"Whoa, whoa. Take it easy, little brother. Just trying to have a little fun here. No need to get your panties all in a bundle."

Daryl aimed his crossbow around his vacant environs, but then he froze, hearing a high-pitched cry in the distance that didn't seem to come from a human adult. He lowered his weapon, peaking his listening and halting while Merle kept sauntering forward, unfazed as if he had heard nothing.

"You hear that?" Daryl said.

"Yeah, wild animals gettin' wild." Merle said.

"No...it's a baby."

"Oh, c'mon. Why don't you just piss in my ear and tell me it's rainin', too?" Merle placed his hand in a cups around his ear, paying sharper attention to the noise. "That there's the sound of a couple 'a coons making love sweet love, know what I mean?"

Merle chuckled, licking his teeth and swaying his hips. Daryl remained with his gaze focused in the distance, where he pinpointed the source of the cry and the screams that now mixed into the bedlam. He bolted towards the hollering, brushing past the foliage. Merle sprang his head towards his brother, cursing at his behavior in his mind before chasing after him. He caught up to Daryl, the two brothers running side by side within the woods.

Daryl had his crossbow at the ready, its tiller aiming at the sky, while Merle kept his revolver tucked in his belt, not expecting to aid anyone. The two stepped out onto an asphalt road that cleaved the forest in two, leading towards a bridge that was built over a shallow river. Daryl halted, his brother imitating, as they stared right ahead at the menace. A man and his teenaged son stood on the rear enclosure of a pickup truck, with the former waving a baseball bat at five walkers that clawed at them from every side. There was a station wagon amid the other abandoned vehicles on the bridge, and on the driver's seat, there was a crying woman clutching a baby in her arms. A pack of the creatures surrounded the vehicle, their handprints smudged against the glass, while a walker slowly crawled its way into the car through the opened trunk. Merle grinned, placing his hands around his mouth to magnify his voice.

"Hey! Jump!"

Daryl sprinted towards the survivors in peril. Merle lost his smile, lazily following after his brother who maintained a faster pace than his.

"Hey, c'mon. Hey, man, I ain't wastin' my bullets on a couple of strangers that ain't never cooked me a meal or felicitated my piece. That's my policy. You'd be wise to adopt it, brother."

The man and his son, both of them with ebony hair and a Hispanic skin tone, darted their gazes between the pairs of bleached eyeballs looking up at them, while the fingernails of the walkers groped their ankles. The man retracted his baseball bat, readying a hit. Before he could launch his blow, an arrow drilled through one of the walker's cranium, tugging the zombie to the asphalt. The man and his son exhaled, holding their breath. Their gazes twirled to their flank, seeing the two strangers. Daryl loaded another arrow into his crossbow, while Merle strolled a few meters behind him. Two of the biters shifted their attention to the crossbow hunter, while the other two tantalized the father and son. Daryl fired his crossbow again, whirring the arrow into the forehead of the closest walking corpse. He fetched the bolt, driving it into the brainstem of the second attacker.

Daryl readied to shoot again, rushing to the station wagon. He counted four walkers, including the one that was making its way inside through the trunk. The tanned man hopped off the truck, clubbing down the duo of walkers. Merle chuckled, sitting on the side barrier of the bridge, watching the killing with a grin. Daryl shot an arrow into the occiput of the dead woman that banged her hands against the windshield, her head sliding down the glass and specking it with a trail of darkened blood. Daryl slung his crossbow, taking out his dagger and knifing one of the zombies, spinning towards the next one. Merle raised his pistol at the biter, but Daryl stood in front of his firing line.

"I gotcha, Daryl!" He chuckled.

Daryl peeped past his shoulder towards his brother, pivoting out of the way. Merle shot down the zombie with a precise shot, his cracked lips sketching a persistent grin. Daryl rushed towards the open trunk, seeing the walker that was crawling inside. He grasped it by the ankles, yanking it outside. The zombie knocked over food cans onto the road, before collapsing on his knees on the asphalt, with its head lined up with the curve of the trunk door. Daryl grabbed the trunk door, wrenching it closed. The head of the walker crushed like a crimson coconut, drenching Daryl's hands with soggy pulp, the blood spatters giving the beige vehicle a new paintjob. Daryl drew a few heavy breaths, wiping his bloodied hands against his jeans. The Mexican man smashed the last walker's head in, barking in Spanish at his son and the two strangers.

"Speak English!" Merle said.

Silence reigned over the battlefield, with trails of greyed corpses dressed in rags and wiry hair littering the road, between the hoards of abandoned cars. Daryl and the man glanced around at the cadavers, checking for any trace of life still beating within them. Merle looked at the trunk of the station wagon, glimpsing through the lateral window. The rear of the vehicle was charged with crates of canned food and plastic bottles. Provisions for weeks. He walked towards the car. He would at least get some compensation for him and his brother for their good service and the bullet he wasted. He opened the backdoor of the station wagon, making the man spring his head towards him.

"_Aléjate de mi carro!_"

The man marched in his direction. Merle aimed his revolver towards the man, cocking the hammer. The man stopped, standing a few feet away from him.

"Slow down, beaner. That ain't no way to say thank you."

"_No tenemos nada. __Quieres llevar el carro? El tanque está vacío._"

Daryl stepped in front of his brother, looking into his eyes that were fixated on the Mexican man.

"Let 'em go."

"Eh." Merle said, holstering his handgun. "Least they can do is give us an enchilada or something, huh?"

Merle entered the car, taking a knee on the backseat and rummaging through their supplies. He examined the cans, wondering which one would make the most nutritious and delicious meal. Daryl exchanged a glance with the man and his son, who let out a sigh of reprehension while they stared at the man who trawled amidst their things, unable to prevent him. Daryl didn't feel like having to threaten his brother into stopping, but taking food from that desperate family didn't seem right. The woman sobbed hiccups and wails in the driver's seat, clutching onto her baby against her chest.

"Easy does it, _señorita_. Everything's gonna be fine." Merle said.

Merle felt the tip of an arrow touch his back. He solidified his arm, his eyes stilling in his skull and his visage counterpoising.

"Get out of the car." Daryl said.

"I know you're not talking to me, brother." Merle said.

Daryl turned to the stranger and his son. "Get in your car and get the hell outta here! Go! Get in your car!"

The man nodded, rushing with his son into their respective seats. Merle shrunk out of the vehicle, straightening himself and turning around towards his brother with a sneer, closing the door. The engine roared in twitters, before driving off and quickly vanishing into the dirt road. Daryl stared at his brother with a defiant glare. Merle had rarely seen such rebellion towards him coming from him in the past, but he supposed he had hairier balls now. He reached for the crossbow to lower it, but Daryl jerked it away from him before he could put a hand on it. Merle's lip twitched, his hand flapping in the air as if he wanted to slap his brother. Daryl stormed off back into the forest, retrieving an arrow from a corpse along the way. Merle thundered after him, crossing a small sign on the edge of the bridge. _Yellow Jacket Creek._

"The shit you doing, pointin' that thing at me?!" Merle said.

"They were scared, man!" Daryl said.

"They were rude, is what they were. Rude and they owed us a token of gratitude."

"They didn't owe us nothing."

"You helping people outta the goodness of your heart? Even though you might die doing it? Is that something your sheriff Rick taught you?!"

"There was a baby!"

"Oh, otherwise you would've left them to the biters, huh?"

Daryl halted in his footsteps, springing towards his brother and waving an arm in front of him.

"Man, I went back for you! You weren't there! I didn't leave you in Atlanta, either. You did that. Way before they locked you up on that roof! You asked for it!"

Merle released a languid chuckle, putting a hand on his hip while rubbing his lips with the other.

"You know—you know what's funny to me? You and sheriff Rick are like this now." Merle said, holding his index and middle fingers intertwined in front of his face. "Bet the nigga also joins in on the fun, uh? A rowdy _ménage à trois. _Right? Hmm. I bet you a penny and a fiddle of gold, huh, that you never told 'em we was plannin' on robbing that camp blind."

Daryl shook his head. "It didn't happen."

"Yeah, it didn't 'cause I wasn't there to help you."

"What, like when we were kids, huh?! Who left who then?!"

"What?! Is that why I got left behind?! Huh?!"

"You got left behind 'cause you're a simpleminded piece 'a shit!"

"Yeah?! You don't know!"

Merle grasped his vest and shoved him to the ground, tearing apart the vest's shoulder. Daryl crumbled on his knees, his eyes enlarging when he felt the wind striking his bare skin. Merle towered over his brother, his visage softening with dread at what he saw. Crude scars marred his back, most of them shaped similarly like a belt buckle. Daryl hurriedly covered up his back with the shredded tissue of his vest, rising to his feet with shaky knees, sniffling. Merle felt his throat turn to glass. His voice came out in a whisper teeming with guilt.

"I—I didn't know—he—he was—"

"Yeah, he did..." Daryl said, his voice tearful and frail. "He did the same to you...that's why you left first..."

"I had to, man. I would'a killed him otherwise."

Daryl recomposed himself, wiping his face. A minute ago, the two brothers were exchanging escalating yells, but now their troubled and silent souls turned their voices low and weakened, their eyes gleaming with tears of remorse that they fought against to keep at bay. Men never cry. Despite their differences, both of them agreed on that. Daryl sighed, clenching his fist. He had enough of his brother. He had enough of his family and the memories of his father. Rick was his family. Lee was too, and he appreciated the thought of seeing Lilly again. The group that he had stuck with for so long was where he belonged. He marched into the forest, making Merle spin his gaze towards him.

"Where you goin'?!"

"Back where I belong."

"I can't go back with you!" Merle said in a hoarser voice, blinking his shining blue eyes and dragging his breaths faster. "I was there when the Governor raped the shit outta the black bitch! Damn near killed the Chinese kid."

"He's Korean!"

Merle twisted his lips, shrugging violently, irritated that his brother added that meaningless detail. A chink is a chink.

"Whatever! Doesn't matter, man, I just can't go with ya!"

Daryl drew a breath, before speaking again. "You know, I may be the one walking away but you're the one who's leavin'...again."

Merle felt his heart weigh as Daryl vanished into the foliage. He exhausted a breath. He was alone now. He didn't fear anything, but the sudden solitude sent a shiver down his spine, paining him with each breath. Despite not wanting to admit it, being away from Daryl again crushed him. He paced around, with his hands on his waist. His visage contracted in a split second, his fist punching the air, before he eventually chased after his brother.

"Damn."

* * *

The shock and agitation that rattled Lee to the core and blurred his thoughts seemed to become idle during the drive. He stared right ahead through the windshield, as the car wobbled from the uneven forest clearing he drove through. The windows were closed, so the breeze outside was acute and distant, while the chawing of the gravel and sticks beneath the tires' weight was muffled. The sound isolation made Lee feel like he was away from everything. As if the world around him didn't exist, and for the time being, he was stuck within the vehicle, not sure if he was thinking straight.

His body was bound to a task, and he didn't seem to be able to control what he did. His hand was coupled with the steering wheel and his foot steady on the pedal, pushing the car at a moderate speed. His visage was stoic, focused on the horizon, scanning for the traitor. But in his head, everything was a mess. In the meanwhile, things were quiet and calm. But what would happen once he spotted Martinez in front of him? His heart knew the answer, but his mind deprived him from knowing it. As if his brain was commanding him to eliminate the threat, and obstructed any other thoughts to not perturb the completion of what he had to do.

The figure of a running man drew in the distance. Lee reeled up his eyebrows, blinking repeatedly. He felt a supernatural force trying to force his foot down harder against the pedal, but he fought against it, keeping his leg still. _Don't do it. _Maybe he could talk to him. Lee curved the steering wheel to the left, aligning the direction of the car with the man. _Don't do it. _Maybe he wasn't a traitor. Lee narrowed his frown, a faint ember shining in his eyes. _Don't do it. _Maybe he could change his mind. Lee shifted in his seat, feeling the mass of his pistol tucked in his belt. _Please, don't do it, Lee._

Lee lurched his hand away from the steering wheel for a split second, shifting to a higher gear, before holding back onto it with a sweaty palm. His foot slammed on the accelerator. The revving of the wheels boosted, making Lee sink further into his seat. He discerned Martinez better as the vehicle approached him. Lee tilted his head down, his eyes riveted to his prey, his mind begging him to stop, yet his muscles were locked in place. Martinez revolved his head around, his eyes inflating at the sight of a metal bull speeding right at him.

"Oh, fuck!"

His feet drummed the ground faster, veering to the side. The corner of the bumpers struck the man's spine, shattering the right headlights and hurling him to the ground. Lee flinched with the impact and removed his foot from the accelerator, smashing the brakes. The vehicle froze abruptly. Lee bumped his chest against the steering wheel from the sudden alteration of inertia. His jaw dropped, his eyelids stretched wide open as his gaze flicked over the dashboard, his lungs ballooning at a paced rhythm. _You killed him_. His throat dried, his arteries clogging with icy blood. He opened the door, hearing the breeze and the seesawing of the tree branches clearly once more. He jogged around the car, asking himself if the impact had killed the man.

"...crazy...fucker...can't...move...tryna' kill me...can't...kill me..."

Martinez laid on the ground with his legs in a crooked position. Blood painted his lips crimson, as the man struggled to sniff oxygen into his lungs. He barely moved his arms, and there was no movement below his waist. Lee swallowed his saliva, guessing that he was paralyzed. His blood turned colder, acknowledging him of how he had brutalized another human being, but his gaze quickly spun towards the handgun that Martinez was trying to lift off the ground. Lee dashed towards him with his worrying thoughts being erased, kicking the gun away. He turned to Martinez, his eyes shining and struggling to remain open. Lee dragged steamy breaths into his lungs, his culpability thoughts being replaced with fury.

"You crazy fucker! You were going back to Woodbury?! You were gonna betray us all?! Put us all in danger, put Clementine in danger?!"

"You selfish piece of shit...you've got the room...the supplies...for everyone in Woodbury...the whole damn town...! Everyone...! Fencing off the streets...it don't work too well...biters, they always...break through...gotta repair the fences all the time...the prison's secure...my people deserve to be safe too..."

Lee shook his head, his grinding teeth turning to twisted lips, blinking as he felt water welling in his eyes.

"You idiot. How did you expect to sneak people out without having the Governor and his guards notice? You would never be able to get them out without getting captured and bringing the Governor right to us!"

"I had to try...the Governor is what he is...but these are women...children...not bad people...good people...they wouldn't hurt your daughter...they wouldn't hurt anyone..."

Lee ran his hand through his hair, scratching it furiously as if he wanted to yank a solution from his brain. He paced around, his visage caving in to emotion. He searched for an answer, and he found it. He had to kill the man. Lee sniffled, his frown trembling as a tear ran down his cheek. He tried telling himself that Martinez was a bad man, that he didn't actually want to bring back the women and children, and that was just an excuse. But what would he gain from lying in his deathbed? Nothing. But there was still the chance that he truly was lying. Yet maybe he just wanted to save people. And Lee had murdered someone who could have been a hero that day. Perhaps not a successful hero, but one with matching intentions. Fury struck him once more, like a blade in his heart that he felt deserving of.

"Damn, I asked you, man...!" Lee blared at the dying man. "I begged you...I begged you not to force me to make a hard choice...I begged you, man...why couldn't you have listened to me...?! You could have stayed at the prison...this wouldn't have happened...all you had to do was forget about Woodbury...dammit, Caesar, don't you get what those people are capable of?!"

Martinez coughed blood onto his own face, burbling his words as his eyes rolled up towards the tangerine sky.

"I think...I'm...starting to...get the idea..."

Lee halted, squeezing his temples. He looked down at his bladed prosthesis. He couldn't have been a bad person. Maybe he could have been. But he couldn't know. All there was at that moment was a man whose life was reaped by Lee's hand, and who was just waiting for a bullet to euthanize him. Lee wiped his tears, taking out his gun and aiming it at Martinez's head. His eyelids blinked the tears away like the shutters of a camera, capturing blurry flashes of Martinez's agonized visage. After a long period of hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

* * *

Christa walked into the infirmary, her eyes floating about the room in contemplation. Alice was scrubbing a counter with a humid rag, and it appeared as though she had worked a lot during the day. The bloodied sheets and pillows were gone and the curtains were redressed. There weren't any corpses laying around, although their stench still paired about, accompanied by the freshness of lemon cleaning product. The disorganized medicine boxes had been placed back into cabinets and the tools were stored on trays and carts.

"This place is starting to look nice." Christa said.

"Huh?" Alice said, turning her head around and setting the rag aside, walking towards the woman. "Oh, yeah. It's actually a pretty nice facility. I didn't expect a prison to be so well-equipped. There's a lot of equipment I can use and we'll be ready for anything once I inventory everything. And there's a bunch of medical books. I'll be reading them, since I've got a lot to learn."

"I'm Christa, by the way. We haven't really had a chance to introduce each other."

"Yeah, sorry. Back at Woodbury there were so many people that we didn't feel the need to know everyone. I kinda got used to keeping to myself."

"Don't worry, nobody's offended." Christa said, losing her smile. "Listen, you're a nurse, right?"

"Yeah, of course, doesn't the lab coat speak for itself?" Alice chuckled.

"Have you ever delivered a baby?"

"What? Oh, no. Nobody seemed to want to bring children into the world back at Woodbury. But why do you ask?"

Christa glanced at the door. Alice raised an eyebrow, before glancing at her stomach. Nothing too noticeable, just a curve that could either be some slight stomach fat or a growing fetus. She stretched out her eyelids, turning back towards the woman.

"Are you—?"

"Yes." Christa confessed, scratching her hair. "Look, I'd really appreciate it that you'd keep it to yourself for now. I'm still not sure when I'm going to tell the others. Some of them know, but not all. I just wanted to know if you'd be able to take a look, say if everything's okay."

Alice rubbed her chin, staring at her stomach. "Well, you're barely noticeable, so I guess you're in your third month. Still too early for me to tell anything. But I'll remember to prepare for it. I've got plenty of stuff I can use to deliver a baby, so don't worry."

Christa sighed with relief, pulling Alice into a hug. The nurse raised her eyebrows, chuckling at the surprise hug and patting her back.

"Thank you." Christa said.

"Anytime, it's what I do. But the baby...is his dad...?"

"Don't worry, he's alive. Know the small Persian guy with the big eyes?"

* * *

Lee tucked his Glock back into his trousers, the one that formerly belong to his deceased lover. He sniffled, rubbing his wet cheeks. He shut his eyes, his head turned away from the dead man laying at his feet, but he could still see him in his mind. He avoided looking back at him and the bleeding bullethole in his forehead, each piece of his conscience desiring to go back and change things. But even if he could go back in time, he felt like he would have done the same thing, yet felt the same regret and contrition.

He walked back to the car. He reached for the door, and then a growl reached his ears, just behind him. He perked up, realizing that he had shut his brain off for the menace of walkers. He glanced around him, seeing disperse dozens of walkers ganging up on him, with more of them shambling out of the forest. A quartet of walkers kneeled around Martinez, digging into his flesh. He remembered Michonne's words from a while back. Sometimes, it's impossible to see them, but they hear you and they go after you. And eventually, they catch up.

Lee sprang around, only to be pinned against the vehicle by a bald zombie. Lee braced it back with his hands on its shoulders, its arms flailing around and scratching Lee's skin. His eyes were riveted to the cue balls staring back at him, but he spotted two shadows sneaking up on the walker from the corner of his eyes. A rod impaled it through the skull, the tip of the rod almost touching Lee's forehead. He pushed the cadaver onto the ground, which revealed Merle and Daryl standing behind it like a falling curtain.

Lee panted, glaring at Merle. He snickered back at Lee, as if he was mocking him since he now owed him some gratitude from saving him. Lee turned his gaze towards Daryl, nodding at him. Daryl returned the head gesture, his eyes lowered. Lee scanned his surroundings. The walkers were growing closer, and he deemed that he had no choice but to take the brothers back to the prison. His heart fluttered at the sight of Daryl, but not Merle. However he didn't give a damn anymore. He just wanted Daryl to return home, and he hoped Merle would fall in line thanks to his brother.

"Back already?" Lee quipped.

Merle looked at the walkers that were devouring Martinez. "Who the hell they eatin'?"

"Don't matter, we gotta go." Daryl said.

* * *

Rick twisted the key on the cell block door, looking between the bars. Merle met his glare, sitting in the bed of one of the cells. Daryl grunted at seeing his brother imprisoned, while Kenny and Lee stood by the sheriff. The three of them wanted Merle to stay locked for the meantime, even though it was obvious that they couldn't keep him in there for long.

"You just gon' lock him up in a cage like an animal?" Daryl said.

"You're lucky we let him in. So shut it." Kenny said.

Daryl snorted, before walking away. "Whatever. Merle's staying here, so get used to it. You ain't gon' keep him in a cage for long."

"And here's me thinking that was the last I saw of that shit-eating grin." Rick said, glaring back at Merle.

"Hey, ain't exactly no love lost between you and me, sheriff." Merle said.

"Guys, you seen Martinez?"

Lee froze to crystal, hearing Alice's voice from behind him. Kenny and Rick turned towards her with a gloomy gaze. Lee had briefly told them what happened when he came back, and they weren't sure of what he and the nurse had, but it was apparent that the two shared some kind of comradeship. Lee mustered his strengths, sighing as he turned towards her. The woman frowned at the set of looks she was receiving, and repeated her question.

"Lee, where is Martinez? I haven't seen him in a while. I've looked for him everywhere."

Lee gulped. "Look, Alice...Martinez is gone."

Alice swelled her eyes, her spine turning cold. "What?! What do you mean?"

"He was going back to Woodbury. He was a danger. I...stopped him."

Alice gasped, putting a hand in front of her hanging jaw. Her mind barred the possibility that Martinez could have betrayed them, drowning her in denial. No, he could not have done it. He cared for her and it was obvious that the Governor would kill her if he brought him to the prison. He wasn't a traitor. Her sorrow turned into anger, her daggering glare shifting towards Lee.

"No...he can't have done that. He wouldn't. You...you killed him?"

"Listen…"

Lee reached for her shoulder, wanting to offer some consolation, but she swatted his hand away, tears adorning the glimpses of rage in her visage. Lee stood in front of her, with a feeling that he was an evil beast that had just destroyed something good. Alice stormed off, cursing under her breath.

"You bastard."

Lee remained petrified in place, huffing painful breaths into his lungs. Kenny and Rick placed their hands on his shoulders.

"You did what you had to, buddy." Kenny said.

* * *

Lilly stood on the frontal watchtower, staring into the night. Keeping watch during twilight was useless, since everything was so dark that she would not see intruders if there were any. At least the stars were pretty. She spent so much time up there the last few days that she didn't know what else to do. She had brought a chair up there along with an ammo box for her Safari rifle, always dangling off her shoulder like a parrot on a pirate's collarbone. It was like her life had no other purpose, aside from picking off walkers occasionally for the safety of people that didn't care much about her.

She spent so much time on lookout, hoping to see Daryl coming back home. She lied to herself about that however, telling herself that it was because of another reason, that it was just a matter of keeping an eye out for herds. But now he was back, along with his asshole of a brother. She hadn't talked to him, and she ignored his gaze when he rolled up in the Hyundai to the prison. She remembered the resent she felt when he left just like that, and she didn't want to get too emotional. Nothing but weakness there.

The stairs within the watchtower clanged with footfalls. Lilly stiffened, hoping that it wouldn't be Daryl, but at the time wishing that it was him, and that he would keep her some company that she would find both soothing and even annoying at times. The man she expected appeared by her side, a few steps away. She glanced at him, before changing back her line of sight. Daryl ran his fingers down his hair, searching for his words.

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"Didn't say anything before leaving?" Lilly said.

"You know what happened. I couldn't leave my brother. He's my family."

"Fine."

Daryl sighed. "Look, whatcha want me to say?"

"I never said I wanted you to say anything. You're back. I'm glad, but that's all."

Daryl shook his head, jerking his head towards the stairwell. "Stop sulkin' and c'mon. Dinner's ready. Let's get some stale chicken in your 'fore you get any thinner."

Lilly looked at him. She wanted to say no. She wanted to be stubborn and tell him to fuck off. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. Being honest to herself for once, she didn't want to be out in the cold anymore, in complete solitude. She wanted to give in to her wishes, which she sometimes saw as weaknesses, and just not feel like a shit for once. She smiled at him. A truly genuine smile in a long time. It faded quickly, but the feeling remained for a while longer. She cleared her throat, adjusting her rifle on her shoulder while she headed towards the stairs alongside Daryl.

"So, Daryl, you intend to leave again soon or what?"

Daryl shook his head. "I won't leave again. I just couldn't leave my brother after finding him. You'd do the same for your pa."

Lilly sighed. "You're right. Family matters."

"And I ain't leavin' mine again."

* * *

The cafeteria knelled with forks hitting plates, but despite the crowded room, not a word was spoken, weighing the mood. They had lit the generator for a short moment, so the vast room was illuminated with the lightbulbs. Clementine ate her meal quietly, often glancing with a worried frown at Lee. He sat next to her, with his elbows perched on the table, his dark eyes fixated in a distant blank. Clementine hadn't been told what he did, but she knew deep down. Martinez hadn't come back with him, so she knew. Lee didn't feel any hunger. It was as if satisfying his biological need of eating would bring guilt along with it, considering that it was his hand who took another life, one that perhaps didn't deserve being taken. His stomach was already repulsed enough by the blood he had in his hands, that started to dig into his epidermis and burden him.

"I understand what you did."

Lee looked at the young girl, whose eyes were lowered onto her food. "Hmm?"

"I know you had to kill Martinez." Clementine said, looking up at Lee. "But I don't think that makes you a bad person. I understand it."

Lee stared at her with an incredulous gaze, before she returned to her meal. He returned to his hypnosis, wiping his forehead and enduring the burden of each breath he took. He was glad that the little girl had some comprehension of what the world had become, but her increasing ingenuity worried him. He just hoped that he wasn't a monster. But he had made Alice hate him, and it was hard for him to not view himself as such. The ringing of a fork against a glass snapped him out of his thoughts. He shook his head, as everyone gyrated towards Christa and Omid who were standing up. Omid cleared his throat, shifting between legs awkwardly.

"Yeah, so, yeah, Christa and me—and I, we, uh, kind of got...yeah, we, uh, sorta have—got something to tell you guys...and girls...and—"

"Honey, stop babbling." Christa told him.

"Yeah, yeah, right." Omid said, glancing at his girlfriend before turning to the group. "The thing is...we're having a baby."

The room was silenced. Jaws stopped chewing food. Carol, Lee and Kenny didn't exhibit a reaction, while the others stared at the couple, not sure what to say. Judith had been a blessing, but taking care of several babies could prove troublesome should something go wrong. Omid bit his lip, scratching his hair, the only sound that resounded in the canteen. Chuck flashed a smile at them, dismayed by the deadened folks surrounding him. He raised to his feet, deciding to voice himself.

"Heck, ain't anybody died. Way I see it, we oughta be celebratin'. We are thriving in here, and this should be good news."

Rick nodded at the homeless man. He had always considered that savagery would find itself into their home. But maybe there was still a long road ahead of them before it came to that. The prison was secure, and their whole group formed a family. Maybe it was the time to start living a little.

"Chuck's right." Rick said. "We've lived far too long in fear outside these fences. We shouldn't fear bringing children into the world. We've found our home. So, Christa and Omid, congratulations."

His words turned frowns into smirks. Rick raised his glass of water in the air, prompting a chain reaction in the others. Christa and Omid smiled, holding their hands.

"To Omid and Christa! May they find joy with a new addition to our family." Rick simpered.

* * *

Merle sat in his bed, staring at his revolver as he wiped its dusty surface with a torn piece of tissue. He didn't have anything else better to do. Officer Friendly and the nigger had locked him in the cell block, while they feasted together in the cafeteria with happiness and union. But he preferred to be alone in his cell. After all, he didn't belong among these people. He preferred to be away from them as they enjoyed their last supper, before the Governor came and crucified everyone. Without taking his eyes off his gun, he spotted a man hobbling into his cell with two crutches, sitting on a chair by the entrance.

"You're the farmer, Hershel."

"And you're the black sheep, Merle."

Merle glanced at his missing leg. "How'd you lose it?"

"I got bit."

"Bit? Hack it off yourself?"

"N'aw. Rick did."

"Awful kindly of him."

"Saved my life. Gave me more time with my girls. Can't put a price on that."

"Can't put a price on anything anymore."

Hershel nodded. He reached into his pocket, sliding out a bible from it. The inscriptions within the two-thousand pages inside were always comfort in dire times. For a second, he was taken back to when his entire family that he sheltered in the barn was murdered, when he was tossed into a pit of despair and resorted to a whiskey bottle. It was an awful thought, wanting to drink himself to death and leave his family that relied on him. Ever since, he had relished every living second, and after losing his leg, he savored each breath even more.

"I found this in one of the cells." Hershel said, tapping the hardcover. "Lost more that the Good Book there for a while. Lost my way." He paused, as if he was trying to remember something. "'Be on guard for yourselves and for all the flock, among which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers...'"

"'...to shepherd the Church of God which He purchased with His own blood.' Acts twenty and twenty-eight."

Hershel flourished a faint smile, staring at the man. He had not expected him to be a believer. Merle lifted a glare at him, as if he were telling him not to have any faith in him just because he knew some bible quotes.

"Woodbury had a damn fine library." Merle said, as if it was an excuse to deny his faith in a superior force which he sometimes considered foolish. "One of the only things I miss about it. When the Governor returns, he's gonna kill me first. My brother, then your girls. Glenn, Carl, the baby, whoever else is left. Maybe have his way with Michonne after she's watched everyone die, before taking her out. He'll save Rick for last, so he can watch his family and friends die ugly."

Hershel stared at the man with an austere visage, absorbing his words without a reply. Merle met his gaze.

"That's who you're dealing with."

Rick and Daryl showed up at the door. The sheriff glared at Merle, swallowing his saliva and his pride.

"We unlocked the doors, you're free." Rick said, turning to Daryl. "Whatever he does, it's on you."

* * *

The sun began to descend beyond the moutains, painting the sky in dark tangerine. Lee and Rick were on the easternmost tower of the prison, on the right side of the main yard. The two of them slumped their backs against the wall of the control booth, taking sips from a gin bottlethat they passed from one to the other. Rick had Judith in her cardbox next to him, whose stomach he tickled while he looked at his friend with a puckered forehead. Lee was lost in his troublesome mind, his glassy eyes riveted on the horizon.

Lee hadn't done any extreme physical effort during the day, but he had rarely felt so fatigued. He slumped on the ground with a sloppy poisture. His thoughts were imprisoned on the same events that unfolded earlier in the day, not seeming to ease their haunting of the man. The alcohol barely helped, and he only appreciated it when he felt joyous and not sorrowful. But he needed anything that had a semblance to a remedy. Rick barely drank, probably to leave most of the gin for him.

"What a fucking day." Lee said, glancing at the half-filled bottle in his hand. "How'd you get this?"

"Chuck gave it to me." Rick said. "Said he was quitting the nectar for the while being."

Lee sighed, lowering his head. "I killed another man today."

Rick nodded without a flamboyant reaction, not shifting his gaze.

"Martinez."

"I didn't mind killing those bastards in the past. I didn't mind killing Tomas. At first, the fact that I didn't care too much for them bothered me. But I quickly got over it. They weren't any good. But Martinez...he might not have been like them. He might have been someone good. But I couldn't be sure. I couldn't. So I...fuck. He could have been good."

"He was a danger. To us. To Carl. To Clementine." Rick said. "You did what had to be done, and while it's going to faze you for a while...I think you'll learn to accept it. Like I have. Sometimes, I feel like a lawless savage. But in this world, things we believe to be evil are right."

"It's not that. Nobody will miss the barbaric assholes we've killed before, the ones I've killed. This world's better off without them. But Martinez wasn't like that. Alice hates me, you know. She seemed to care about him. I don't know what they had between them...but I've broken two people apart. Doesn't that make me somewhat evil?"

"How's that sayin' go?" Rick said, looking up and tapping his finger against his chin, before snapping his fingers and turning to his friend. "Oh, right. You can't please everyone. Maybe you should be glad you still have a conscience towards those things. I don't give a shit anymore. I realized that a long time ago...how detached I've become. I'd kill everyone in this prison if I thought that'd keep Carl and Judith safe. I care for everyone in our group, I really do. But if I had to, I'd make that sacrifice. Sometimes, I find myself rankin' them. Who do I like the most? Who could I off first? I rank them, just in case things come to that. I feel like I'm no longer attached to any of these people. I could kill any of them at any moment for the right reasons. So tell me, do you think we're evil?"

"I...don't know. Even Clementine understands what I did. At this point, I think it's become natural to all of us."

Rick glanced at his baby girl slumbering in the cardbox. before his eyelids snapped wide open.

"Oh, shit. I completely forgot! I need to make a crib, a bassinet, something. Fuck, we've been so caught up dealing with our shit that I totally forgot about it. There's so many things I need to do, so many stuff we're missing."

Lee smiled for a quick second. He cherished the rare sight of the tender, paternal compassion coming from his hardened friend. Sometimes, he didn't feel like Rick was a person like before. But he was still the strong father of two that he knew and valued as a brother. Rick was just like any of them, having learned to deeply interiorize emotions until they were no longer sure they existed. Lee gulped, wondering if one day he would view the act of killing a good person as something trivial. He chugged the bottle one last time, hoping to swallow down that horrible possiblity.

* * *

"Maggie, will you marry me?"

Glenn would get on one knee. Step one. He held his ring out to Maggie, who stood in front of him, both of them atop the pedestrian bridge. He would pop the question. Step two. So far, things were going smooth and his grin spanned from one ear to the other, his heart pounding with both glee and the docile anxiety of turning his love towards his soulmate eternal. Her eyes glowed with a new light, her lower lip drooping an inch lower. But her visage stiffened, her eyebrows constricting with curves, as she rubbed her chin. Glenn remained with his smile taped to his lips, but it lost its magic. His instincts told him something was wrong.

"I don't know...can I think about it?"

Her tone was nonchalant and regular. Glenn's smile melted into two lips curving downwards, his eyes bulging. He didn't move a muscle, while a knife dug into his abdomen and disemboweled him alive. He held his breath, his face turned to a still photograph of incredulity. Maggie burst in cackles, making her chest bounce irregularly, as she covered a playfully mischievious smirk with her hand.

"Oh, are you kidding me? Of course I'll marry you! Gosh, I can't belive you couldn't tell I was kidding. I mean, it's not like there are any options for me...and, I totally love you, dipshit!"

Glenn let out a hefty sigh with a huge smile, his sweating pores calming and cooling his body. Maggie stretched her hand out towards him and he slid the ring into her finger. Glenn looked into her eyes, getting on his feet. After the heartbreaking prank, her eyes now glistened with legitimate emotion, a tear of joy swaying back and forth in her eyelids. She sniffled, her smile easing in intensity.

"But, seriously..." Maggie said. "Going to a church isn't exactly an option. How are we going to do this? Do we just, hold hands and walk around a table backwards or something?"

"No, I was thinking of asking your father to handle it." Glenn said. "He's the most spiritual out of everyone here, as far as I know, so he's the closest thing to a priest we've got. He could read some things from the bible, make it sound official...it'd be nice. Then we can officially spend whatever time we have left as husband and wife."

Maggie nodded with a flowery smile, wrapping her arms around the man before her and tightening him against her.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

The aura of winter was persistent in that particular morning, engulfing Kings County in clouds of thick nebula. Morgan Jones exhaled a vaporing breath, tucking his chin into his fur-lined coat, curling his toes within his thick boots. He raised his axe above his head and downed it onto a log that sat straight up on a tree stump. The blade hatcheted the log in two similar halves with a wet thud, from the axe that collided with the wet stump. Morgan looked at the pile of split logs laying at his feet, counting maybe twenty pieces and deeming it enough for the meanwhile. They could use some more firewood, but he didn't want to spend any more time in the freezing cold that numbed his nose and made his teeth chatter.

Morgan glanced around him. The neighboring houses that stretched out around their household were now invisibile, and he found himself surrounded by walls of opaque air, as if the world had disappeared and he was stuck inside a snowglobe. Just him, his son and his house behind him, cornered by niveous weather and mist. _At least there aren't any roamers. _That was one of the sole advantages of wintertime. The snow that was sometimes hard to tread and the lack of prey seemed to make the zombie flocks scarcer. Morgan thought that maybe there were walkers lurking in the road, but he just didn't see them due to the fog.

He hoped that it would vanish quickly, since he often refrained from going out on supply runs during foggy days, which easily camouflaged any walkers sneaking up on him. He returned to reality, wanting to get back into his house. He bent down, scooping up the firewood with his arms and walking towards the backdoor of the two-story house. His breaths swiveled in steam as they left his nostrils. His backdoor was boarded up by the doorposts from top to bottom, aside from a gap in the middle that was clear. Unable to knock with his fist, he bumped his elbow against the door.

"_Just a minute!_"

The click of a lock rang from inside, before the door opened up, with Duane standing by it. Morgan dropped the logs through the gap in the door boards, before squeezing through the chasm into the house.

"I swear, son, it's getting colder out there by the minute." Morgan said.

"Hurry up, dad, it's getting cold in here." Duane said. "You see any bad ones out there?"

"Nope. Since it started getting cold, they've pretty much stopped coming around. Thanks, son."

Duane sat on the ground, picking up an opened comic book from the ground and turning its eyes towards the pages. Morgan flicked his eyes around the living room. He and his son had moved into this stranger's house a while back, but it still felt weird living in it. As if it truly wasn't his house. And, well, it wasn't. Low embers roasted in the fireplace. In the corner, a tree glistened with the firelight, decorated with shiny, colored spheres and a star at the summit, with a few wrapped gifts underneath it. A banner hanging on the wall welcomed him back home. _Merry Christmas. _Morgan turned back to his son.

"You finish your comic?"

"Yeah, again. I wish I could get new comics. The ones I have are starting to get boring because I read them so much."

Morgan smiled, jerking his head towards the tree.

"Come here. I think I have something that could cheer you up."

Duane jumped to his feet with a smile, forgetting about his obselete comic book on the floor. Morgan placed his hand on his son's back, leading him towards the tree.

"What is it?" Duane said.

"It's a present, son. I don't want to ruin it for you. Sit down." Morgan said, before Duane dropped onto the couch.

"But it's too early. You never let me open by presents early before. You said it would ruin christmas."

"Nonsense. You've heard me before, I don't even know if the calendar is accurate anymore. We could be two days past christmas, for all we know." Morgan said, grabbing a wrapped box of considerable size from below the tree, passing it to his son. "So, you better open it."

Duane grinned, weighing the box in his hands. "Okay, if you say so. It's heavy."

"I think you'll like it at least a little bit." Morgan smiled. "I spotted it when I was getting supplies last."

Duane tore the wrapping paper apart, his fingers clawing the box open. He narrowed his eyelids, examining the contents. His eyes lit up, his mouth gaping wide with a gasp. Morgan widened his simper, his heart warming. Duane reached into the box, taking out a handheld console along with game cartridges and a four-battery pack.

"Oh, man! Gameboy! You got me games and batteries, too! I can actually play with this!"

"Just keep in mind, son, when those batteries run out, this thing isn't going to work. You need to try and conserve battery power whenever you can. Batteries aren't exactly easy to come by, these days."

"I know, dad. I won't leave it on when I'm not playing or anything. I promise. Thanks, dad. I love you."

"I love you too, son." Morgan said, turning to the fireplace. "I better put another log on the fire before it goes out."

Morgan picked up a log and tossed it in the fire, sparking it up into wavy flames. He anchored himself on a chair, stretching his hands towards the heat of the fire. The numbness in his extremeties slowly creeped away, while the pieces of snow hanging onto his clothes melted off. He stared into the flames, relaxing with their crisping and not taking his eyes off them. The fire was the only noise in the room, until Duane lit the gameboy. Bips and bops echoed from the handheld device, his fingers tapping the buttons.

"So, you think it's about time to stop worrying about paying for all the stuff we've taken?" Morgan said. "I mean, it's been almost three months since all this started. Television's still not broadcasting. Got no radio signals. We haven't seen anyone living come through here since those fellas that gave us the cop car."

Morgan reminisced of the two men for a moment. He remembered the fret alerting his senses when Duane yelled for him, and he came running, only to find that his son had mistaken a man for a walker and had knocked him out cold with a shovel. His sheriff friend then came sprinting out of a house, and Morgan remembered how he stumbled over his words, trying to explain what happened. Ever since, his boy had grown a lot, and despite having only been a few months since the outbreak started, it seemed like years had matured his features, and he was much more sensible than before, no longer fearing the growls and knocks of the dead.

"They sure were helpful, with the guns and all, too. Still, we haven't seen any officials, no military, police...nothing. I do gotta say, son, I hate stealing all this stuff. Even though half the places in town were already looted before they evacuated everyone, it just don't feel right. I mean, we don't really got a choice. It's like us staying in this place instead of our own house. Our place was so big, it'd been impossible to secure. Too many doors, way too many windows."

Morgan sighed, a memory of his wife's death flashing into his mind. He shut his eyes, as if he tried to visualize her face better before wiping it away from his thoughts. Before they left their home, he had gone upstairs with a rifle and searched for her through the scope, taking out all of the haunted souls that shuffled in the streets. But when she found herself in his sights, he could not do it. The tears flooded his eyes, and his index finger froze in front of the trigger. He decided to leave elsewhere, somewhere safe and somewhere far away from her, where he could move forward. He remembered for a second about their Christmas holidays spent together, where she spoiled the both of them with gifts and all of the warmth in her heart. But those were just days gone bye.

"And being there...I wouldn't have been able to stop thinking about your mother. And what happened to her. All the things I've done since the world went to shit and stealing stuff still gets to me...I guess that's just who I am. I always worry about the little stuff. I guess I always figured everyone focuses on the big stuff and I'd place my efforts somewhere else. Still, everytime I'm out there digging for food...toys...I wish a policeman would come and arrest me...at least I'd know we're not the only..."

Morgan looked towards his son, his words now weighing his conscience. Duane had his eyes sunk in the gameboy, his jovial visage not having budged from a few minutes ago.

"I'm sorry, son. I know that's a horrible thought. I didn't mean to worry."

"Huh?" Duane grunted, not taking his eyes off his game.

Morgan felt a tear sliding down his cheek. He cleaned it off with a curled fist, sniffling, but a smile quickly germinated in his lips. His boy was so caught up in his joy bubble that he hadn't heard a single word he said, leaving him monologuing the entire time. Maybe the world had turned to shit, but his son was happy. That was all that mattered. He had lost everything that he had, but he had his son. He had Duane. He would be shattered if he lost him, but that would never happen while he was still breathing. Morgan lifted his spirits, as it looked like there was a chance for a happy Christmas.

"Merry Christmas, Duane."

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: Before you get all your pitchforks because I didn't let Martinez live, let me explain. First of all, he was based off his comic version, and comic Martinez would never stay at the prison if he thought he had a chance to save his people. I try to change things as much as I can, but sometimes the arcs need to remain similar otherwise this story will lack some drama and plot. Second, Martinez dying is going to represent a great change for Lee.**


	70. Clear

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 70 – CLEAR**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: Biggest chapter yet! 19,000 words! Man, I literally spent eight hours straight editing this chapter. Hope the effort pays off!**

* * *

**Guest:**** "****Carol is such a bich talk to kenny like that (i hate him for what happen in season 1 but carol is a bitch ) also dryal x lilly , lee x molly , clementine x carl.****"**

**Answer: I'm sorry, but who exactly is this Dryal individual you're talking about? I don't think he's an existing character in this story, you must have made a mistake. Now that you mention a Carlentine ship, I remembered that I haven't had a lot of scenes between the two (I don't think there have been any to be honest). Also, in case you forgot, Carl is already Sophia's boyfriend (at least I think he is. Sometimes I can't even remember if I inserted some of those little details into the crossover or not, but I'm pretty sure I inserted that).**

**Guest: "[...] ****just to clarify are we talking comic carol or show carol and likewise show axel or comic axel cause I fucking loved comic axel. ****[...]****"**

**Answer: It's show Carol and a mix between both comic and show Axel.**

**Guest: "****Wow good chapter but I don't think that you should kill Carol off like this guy/girl is saying [...]****"**

**Answer: I was being sarcastic when I said I'd kill her in the review responses xD Beyond that, thanks for the kind words that you wrote in the rest of your review, I truly appreciated them!**

* * *

Glenn could not extinguish the wide grin he had on his lips, even if he wanted to. Not when it was his wedding day, and it was as splendid as he could hope for in the end of the world. The cafeteria was caught up in an infectious contagion of smiles, with his ragtag family watching him holding Maggie's hands as they stared into each other's eyes, sensing as if they felt the same ecstasia as one another. Two beings united into one, and both of them with a tickle in their hearts, as if they could barely believe that they were truly getting married.

Lee bore a faint simper upon his face, but could not express any further how happy he felt for his friend. He was proud that Glenn had found his soulmate and there was something hopeful in a world that became grimmer by the day, but thoughts about Martinez still haunted him. Not the actual bullet that he fired into his brain. Not even the actual man that he killed. It was the action of killing a possibly innocent man that tormented him. He hadn't even tried an alternative, like locking him up or something. He had drawn the hatred of someone else. Someone hated him for what he did. He sighed, knowing that nothing else would have worked, but his mind seemed to insist on making him feel guilty. He glanced at his bladed prosthesis. The device was quite useful, but always reminded him of who made it for him.

Hershel stood on one leg beside the two lovers, steadied on his crutches while holding an open bible in front of his eyes. His heart fluttered as he recited the verses, a bristly smile gapping his beard. He paused for a moment, glancing at his daughter and her fiancé. They were both wearing prison jumpsuits as wedding garments, but that did not take away from any of the magic. There was some kind of charm about the whole improvised nature of the ordeal. Molly had managed to drag herself out of bed to watch the union. Everybody was there, except for Merle, who was banished from coming. He turned his eyes back to the bible.

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it does not envy, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no records of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserveres. These two have prepared their own vows."

Glenn cleared his throat, straightening his posture and soothing his voice so it would not be too shaky.

"Maggie, my love, I promise to protect you and honor you and keep you safe and protect you—uh, and I vow to love you for as long as I have left and to do everything in my power that that is a long time."

Maggie cleared her throat, exhaling a breath and grinning at him.

"Today, a day of love and celebration of love, I pledge to share my life with you. Whether these days to come are happy or sad, I will live them with you. Glenn, I give myself to you as your wife."

Hershel looked at Maggie.

"Maggie, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to honor and cherish 'til death do you part?"

"I do."

Hershel looked at Glenn.

"Glenn, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to honor and cherish 'til death do you part?"

"I do."

Hershel widened his simper. "Then by the powers vested in me by the unusual circumstances of our lives and the good Lord above, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Glenn and Maggie leaned in closer and laced their lips, their eyes closing and their hands squeezing harder, albeit with a compassionate grip. Glenn's solar plexus tingled with shots of dopamine, welding their kiss for several seconds. The cafeteria echoed with applause and cheering, as Hershel lowered his head with humble glee and closed the bible. Daryl slid two fingers into his mouth, blowing out a sharp and howling whistle. He put his hands around his lips.

"You go, Korea boy!"

* * *

Merle stretched out on his bed, his fingers intertwined behind his head. The whole prison seemed like a ghost town, with the entirety of its inhabitants gathered in the canteen to celebrate the disgusting union of the Korean kid and his whore. He didn't want to be there, anyway. That wasn't his place. Amongst people who loathed him. It didn't matter. Anything beautiful or joyous that they could build there would be razed to rubble in not too long. Maybe it would take a few months, but it would come.

He knew that it was just a matter of time before the Governor rolled up to the prison, and then it would be back to the old days, with him and his brother out on the road, leaving behind ruins full of dead bodies. He was prepared the best that he could be for that eventuality. A compact duffel bag replenished with canned food and ammunition was stuffed beneath his bed, and his thirty-clip assault rifle with a knife taped to the barrel was resting against the wall. Merle absorbed the silence around him. Faint clapping reached his ears. He snorted.

"Fuckin' lovebirds."

* * *

Glenn sat up on his bed, removing his shirt which left him with his fit torso exposed. Maggie unzipped her jumpsuit, taking it off and sliding her feet out of the trousers. Glenn still giggled to himself from time to time, his brain dazed by the wedding high. Something that started out as a flirty sleeping around with a girl way out of his league turned out to be a bona fide love that he could never have hoped for before the world ended. The same incredulity from before hovered between the two lovers. The marriage hadn't changed much. They still loved each other as much as before. But now they wondered with playfulness what they would do next. What were they supposed to do for a honeymoon?

"That was nice." Glenn said. "I mean, I don't want to sound girly or anything, but that was a nice ceremony. I mean, much nicer than I thought it could be."

"Yeah, my 'dress' was totally pretty."

"Heh, yeah. It was one for the history books. Hmph...so..."

"We're married, now, huh?"

"Yeah...married."

Maggie and Glenn deadlocked their narrowed gazes. He was on the bed, shirtless, and she towered in front of him, in her underwear. She contracted into a grimace and a wicked smirk, as if she wanted to take a bite out of her husband. Maggie leaped onto Glenn, knocking him onto the mattress. The springs creaked and Glenn let out a wobbling grunt, before reassuming his grin. She sat on his lap, her palms clutching his head.

"C'mere, husband!"

* * *

Christa sat on one of the nursery beds, with her jacket rolled up which revealed her bumpy stomach. Alice kneeled before her, butting a fetal stethoscopse against her womb and nearing her ear to the receiver of the device. She had found the instrument in Woodbury and decided to take it when they left the town. She hadn't considered the possibility of a baby, and had just taken it since they were in a rush and she didn't pay much attention to what she took with her.

Omid stood by his girlfriend, holding her hand and awaiting the diagnosis. Alice glanced at the medical textbook that was open midway on the counter. The book talked about babies, and Alice thought it was bizarre to find such a book in a prison, but she guessed that there was some story behind why it was there. She didn't know too well how to use the stethoschope, since the book barely mentioned the usage of the object. She gave up, rising to her feet and sliding the device into her pocket.

"I can barely hear anything." Alice said. "There's a small heartbeat, but I can't even tell if it's yours or the baby's. I wasn't taught much when it came to fetuses and childbirth. Babies weren't a concern in Woodbury. I'm not even sure if the fetus has a fully-grown heart yet."

"So, we just gotta wait?" Christa said.

"Seems so. But if anything was irregular, I suppose we'd have see it by now."

Omid chuckled. "Man, I'm gonna be ripping on you with fat jokes for months now."

Christa snickered at him, pinching his arm. He winced, reeling his arm back and upholding his bicep.

"Ow!"

Christa turned to Alice, straightening her lips.

"Look, I wanted to talk to you about Lee."

Alice stiffened at hearing his name. She twirled around, pretending to shift her attention towards the paragraphs of her textbook. Omid lost his humor as well, folding his arms and anchoring his head down. He had been briefly informed of what Lee had done, and he only knew that he took out that guy and Alice was pissed about it. But whatever the circumstances, he was convinced that Lee did it for the right reasons, and Christa shared the sentiment.

"What about him?" Alice said.

"I know that he might seem a bad person to you for what he did to Martinez." Christa said. "But, trust me, he's a good man. The best we've met out there. He did what he did because he believed it was the right thing and because he believed we could be in danger."

Alice sighed. "Maybe. But that doesn't change what he's done to me, and—"

Someone knocked on the door. Alice, Omid and Christa glanced at the visitor, who happened to be Billy. Alice hurtled toward him. She didn't want to talk about Martinez, and the pleasant interruption made her release a charged breath. The young farmer boy had one of his hands stuffed into his pocket.

"Oh, hey. Um..."

"Billy. It's Billy. I'm Hershel's son. The guy with one leg."

"That I knew. I'm sorry. Just taking me time to remember everyone's names. What can I do for you?"

"I got this headache. Comes and goes. Been going on longer than I can remember. I figure it's the stress. Was thinking though, maybe you got some aspirin up here or somethin'. Hadn't really thought about it 'til now."

"Sure, I got what you need."

Alice opened a medicine cabinet, reading the labels and taking out the correct pill box. Billy glanced at Christa and Omid, who were chatting on the farther end of the infirmary.

"So, you think you can do it?"

"Huh? Do what?"

"Deliver Christa's baby."

"I don't know...I hope so. But I really just don't know."

Billy sighed. "You're a nurse and all, so I'm sure you'll know what to do. I just really hope things won't go like last time..."

* * *

Tyreese tossed about in his bed. Each position was uncomfortable, but his eyes were clasped close from the hefty somnolence drifting within him. There was a dim light bathing the cell block through the tall frosted-glass windows. He had remained awake until late at night, reading a bunch of books that he gathered from the library until he realized that the sun was coming up. After the wedding, he just wanted a nap. His sleep grew less and less tantalizing by the day, as the prison grew safer and reminiscences of his daughter became less intense in his mind.

He heard footsteps near his cell. He remained with his eyes closed. It was normal that people would be walking around outside. A mass of weight sank his mattress. He flipped around onto his back, cracking his eyelids open and rubbing them. He blinked his eyes open. Michonne was crawling into his bed, her head hanging low with her dreadlocks hiding her face, aside from her expressionless lips.

"Huh? Michonne? What're you...? Do you...?"

She shattered his phrase with loud sobs. She tilted her head up slightly, revealing tears that poured down her cheeks. Tyreese choked on his words. She dropped on the bed next to him, overlapping her leg over his lap and nuzzling her body with his, setting her head on his naked torso. Tyreese widened his eyelids, with no words to say or an idea of what to do. He softened his gaze, staring at her scalp and wrapping his arm around her back, feeling her hiccups and sobs throbbing against his chest.

* * *

The bleachers in the gymnasium were crowded with most of the group, who was cheering for the two teams facing each other in a basketball match in a battle between genders. Merle wasn't exactly forbidden from going there, but he had chosen not to watch the game, and Daryl seemed to be with him. Glenn dribbled the ball, accompanied by the rest of his boy team which also consisted of Tyreese, Billy and Omid. The girl team assumed defensive stances. Alice ganged up on Glenn, while Andrea, Maggie and Beth stood next to the other men to block any passes. They were wearing basketball tank-tops and shorts, which they had found in the gymnasium's storage room.

Lee followed the match with a sharp eye, reminiscing of when he and his brother constantly played basketball while growing up together. Despite wanting to participate, he remained on the sidelines, wanting to avoid cutting someone up on accident. Kenny and Rick sat by him, and while they enjoyed the game, they did not cheer with vehemence like the others did when their respective gender gained the upper hand. Omid dashed away from Andrea's blockage into a clearing in the field, waving his arms above his head.

"Pass the ball, c'mon! I'm open!" Omid shouted.

Glenn bounced up and hurled the ball at him. Omid scooped the ball and dribbled towards the enemy hoop. The other players chased after him, with the girls targeting him with their sprints. He chuckled as his eyes focused on the hoop that quickly drew closer.

"We can't let these girls beat us!"

He leaped two steps forward before jumping in the air. He was going for a slam dunk. His smile weakened once he realized that his height distanced him way too much from the hoop. He tried to readjust his technique and throw the ball, but Andrea's hand swatted the ball away from his hands. Omid landed back on his feet, punching his knee while his eyes darted towards the ball. The sphere arrived into Beth's hands, who dribbled across the field, fast as an arrow.

"Shit!" Omid said.

"You ain't letting us win, but you sure are helpin' us!" Beth said.

Billy chased after her, his visage grimacing with frustration. The girls were getting lucky at each twist and turn of the match.

"You gon' drop it! Drop it, sis!"

"Not gonna happen! Catch, Andrea!"

Billy dashed in front of her as she arrived at the hoop. But she didn't target the hoop, and instead she passed the ball towards the blonde woman. Andrea neared the hoop, aligning her shot while Tyreese and Omid scurried to the desperate defense of their points.

"Another point, coming up!" Andrea smiled.

The ball flew in the air and glided into the hoop. The girls hopped around, high-fiving each other while the boy team paced around with defeat stamped on their visages. Molly stood on the bleachers, waving her fist in the air while using her other hand to clutch her wounded stomach. She roared at the scoring of another point, increasing the points they had over the men even more. She tugged Clementine's shirt, encouraging her to join her feminist protest, but the girl just flashed her a timid and sheepish smile. Lee chuckled, shaking his head, glad that she was back to her lively esprit once more.

"Go, girls! Beat their sorry asses!" Molly shouted.

"Don't listen to her, boys!" Travis yelled back. "Show 'em what you're made of!"

Rick shook his head, rubbing his temples. Good God..."

Ben turned to Travis. "Think you'd be able to score in there?"

"N'ah, my leg's still a little fucked up." Travis said. "Tingles when I walk. Nothing serious, but I'd rather not push it."

"You should be in there, Lee! I bet you'd kick their butts." Kenny said, before losing his smile and flicking his eyes towards his missing hand. "Oh, shit, totally forgot—"

"C'mon, don't worry about it." Lee said. "Although I'm sure you're only saying that because I'm urban."

Kenny smiled, shaking his head. "Never gonna let that go, will you?"

"Nope."

* * *

Lee accompanied Molly back to her cell. She winced and hissed with each step, often bringing her hand to her midsection and sometimes needing to lean on the wall. They stepped inside her quarters. He wanted to help her, but he knew that she was too stubborn to accept any help to perform something as simple as walking. She grasped the bed frame, taking her time to lower herself down to the mattress. She attemped to lay down, but quickly erected herself to a sitting position.

"Look, want me to—?"

"Hey, I'm fine! I can do this alone."

Lee chuckled. "Someone's in a mood today."

"Yeah, well, watch out. My mood almost drive my pickaxe through your skull that one time."

Molly sighed.

"Sorry. It's just that this hurts like a bitch and I hate having to stay in bed."

"Don't worry, you'll soon be back at jumping around everywhere and from roof to roof."

Molly rolled up her jacket, lowering her gaze to the wound with a stiff neck. She raised the bandage, which peeled off some of the dried blood that was glued to her skin, making her injured flesh sting. Lee squatted down, glancing at the crimson crater situated on the edge of her stomach, which had only scraped flesh and none of the vital organs. He stretched out the left corner of his lips, before taking his eyes off the injury.

"Fuck. How's it look?" Molly said, lowering the bandage back down.

"Still ugly." Lee said. "Try not to stretch out too much. You'll want that wound to stay sealed."

"Fine. Geez, I feel like I'm some kind of senile old lady."

"Patience. It'll heal in due time. Hmph. That basketball match was heated, eh?"

"Yeah. I wanted to play, were it not for this fucking hole."

"I think everyone noticed your excitement."

"Well, we beat the boys' asses, didn't we?" Molly grinned.

"Probably because I wasn't in there."

Molly snorted. "Of course. How could I forget? I'm sure Lee Everett could've single-handedly won that match. Literally."

"Your lack of faith in hoop-shooting ability is hurtful." Lee smiled.

"I'll believe it when I'll see it. The moment I'll be healed up, I'll kick your ass across the field. It'll be like the Paralympics. Unless you're too chicken to face me."

"Chicken? Ha. It's a deal, then. I don't need two hands to show you how to slam-dunk."

"Well, then, you're going down, Everett!"

* * *

The generator did not have a lot of fuel, but Rick had deemed that it was about time to spoil the group with a rare luxury. Showers. Vince had figured out how the generators worked and got it running in no time, which got the shower rooms functional again. Lee stood in front of a mirror, his waist covered by a towel. The tiled room around him was foggy with steam, and vapor clouded the mirror. He wiped the vapor away with his stump. His lips curved. It had been a long time ever since he saw himself. He was different.

There were bags lining his cheekbones beneath his eyes, along with a bushy beard that hid his cheeks. There was something about his face that was different. Maybe the tone of the skin had changed, maybe it was something else. Maybe it was just a few traces of life that had leaked from his body and that he would never get back. He soaked his cheeks and chin with shaving cream, reaching for a razor. Behind him, the splooshes of running water ceased. Lee raised his head, stretching out his lips and sliding the thin blade up his neck beard. Glenn, Kenny and Rick walked up to him, with towels covering their naked waists.

"Lee! Oh, Lee!" Glenn said. "What are you doing? Don't you know nobody will recognize you without the face fuzz? You were starting to look tough. Man, don't do it."

"Gotta. Don't wanna scare Clementine too much." Lee said.

Glenn turned to Kenny, who reached for the shaving cream and a razor as well.

"Man, don't tell me you're going to get rid of that epic beard."

"Sorry, it's gotta go." Kenny chuckled. "But the stache is staying."

"Pretty soon y'all might be running that razor over the top of your head, too. Like Glenn." Rick said.

Glenn smiled, drenching the top of his skull with shaving cream.

"I mean, you might as well go for it, am I right? Why stop at the face?"

"It'd feel weird not having any hair." Kenny said.

"Plus, there's no fun in having sunburnt heads. And I like my hair." Rick said.

"Fair point. Not to mention that Kenny wouldn't be Kenny without the mullet." Glenn said.

"We can all agree on that." Lee said.

"So, how's married life treating you?" Rick asked.

"Totally awesome." Glenn said. "Really, it is. It's like, the best thing to ever happen to me. I'm so happy, it's just...great."

Rick stared at the younger boy for a long moment. His blissful ignorance was so similar to the one he felt when he got married to Lori. Those first few weeks were always perfect, while the love was fresh and young. He had no doubt that he and Maggie could be a happy couple for the rest of their lives, but to get there it would be a road full of potholes. He didn't say anything, letting him have his fun while it lasted. Instead, he just smiled at his naïveté.

"Give it time..."

* * *

Axel hauled the last pallet onto the pedestrian bridge. He leaned it against the railing. Carol had already started setting up their defenses, in case of an eventual firefight. Metal, round table surfaces were propped against both of the banisters, layered with a wooden pallet to reinforce the metal barriers. Carol carried another table surface to the end of the bridge, setting it down against the railing.

"So we'll reinforce this with some metal from the yard. If anything happens, we just duck."

Carol squatted down behind one of the table surfaces, illustrating her words. Her cheeks wrinkled in a smile. Axel duplicated her expression, hauling the pallet towards its respective spot.

"I hope nothing happens. Guns scare the bejesus outta me. I robbed a gas station with a toy gun. Never even took it outta my pocket."

"So, what're you saying? You were in here for a toy gun?"

"N'aw, listen to this. The next day the cops found me at my brother's house. Still had the water pistol in my pocket. I swore up and down that was the only weapon I had, but they said they didn't believe anyone could be so stupid and get away with it. So they turned my brother's house upside down and found his .38. Said it 'matched the description'." Axel smiled, making quotation marks with his fingers. "There you go. Armed robbery."

He slid his platinum-steeled pistol from his belt, holding it in front of his waist.

"Tell you the truth, I don't even know how to use this damn thing."

"You're all about the truth?" Carol said, taking the pistol from his hand.

"Yes, m'am, I am." Axel grinned.

Carol slid out the magazine, couting seven bullets. "It's fully loaded. Let's hope it stays that way."

Axel retrieved the gun and looked down at it, before lifting his eyes towards Carol.

"Who taught ya to handle a gun?"

Carol hesitated to answer. "A man called Theodore. Lost him just before we found this place."

"You ever shoot?"

"Couple times, yeah."

Axel grinned. "You're quite a lady."

Carol stared at him. She twirled around with a broad smile, letting out a joyous exhale. "Hmph."

* * *

Merle rolled his eyes through the shelves of organized weaponry, neatly stocked in the armory. Rick, Lee, Daryl and Kenny stood behind him, not saying a word as he inspected their inventory. His presence bugged them just like it did when they took him in, and it always tuned out any conversations. But he knew how much firepower Woodbury had, and they needed him as a weapons advisor.

"What do y'all got here?" Merle asked.

"Ten rifles, six shotguns, eighteen pistols, eight suits, some tasers and batons." Rick said.

"Throwing sticks and stones at 'em ain't gonna work. Say, whatever the hell happened to Brownie? He the one who handled the guns back at the town."

Lee lowered his head. "He, uh, didn't make it."

Merle chuckled. "Didn't make it, uh? You sure that ain't a florid manner 'a sayin' you killed him? 'Cause I know he wouldn't just get caught by the biters like that."

"Look, bro, just tell us if we got enough guns or not." Daryl said.

Merle snorted. "This is pathetic. Y'all don't stand a chance when they come."

"_If _they come." Rick said.

"How about you stop saying that we can't handle the threat and just help us for once?!" Kenny said.

"I say it 'cause it's true." Merle groaned between teeth. "Y'all would be better off out on the road."

"We're not leaving! So get that through your thick skull and make the best outta the situation!"

"Enough." Rick said. "Look, it's pretty clear-cut. We don't have enough compared to them. We need to check the ammunition, see if they fit with the guns we still got from the precinct in Atlanta. And we need to find more guns."

"Your buddy Martinez mentioned something about a National Guard station." Kenny said, turning to Merle.

"I ain't never been there, but I know where it is." Merle said. "Seems like the best option to save y'er sorry asses."

"Talking about the precinct..." Lee said, looking at Rick. "You left that stock pretty intact. Maybe we could pay a visit to Kings County. You locked the armory 'fore we left. Doubt anyone's gotten in there."

Rick nodded, agreeing with the idea but feeling a pinch in his stomach. He never had thought about returning to his hometown. He did not want to. It's not a good idea to chase after days that have gone by. He remembered his house, its impeccable walls and tended garden, which would probably have turned to grim decay. He decided to ask Carl if he'd like to come along, since maybe he would want to reminisce of the past for a while. He wasn't sure if it was a good choice, but the boy was mature enough to choose.

"What we waitin' for? We need to get on the road 'fore we lose any more time." Daryl said.

* * *

Rick marched down the walkway of their cell block, with Carl following at his heel. His eyes lit up with a mixture of dread and anxiety when he agreed to come along with his father, but he had been fast to get ready to leave. His sheriff hat overshadowed his head, and his Beretta was sheathed in his holster that nearly reached his knee. But Rick wasn't sure what he expected to find there, or what he wanted to see back at his hometown. He headed for the cell belonging to Michonne, setting his thoughts aside.

"You trust her enough to bring her along now?" Carl asked.

"I wouldn't call her one of us just yet." Rick said. "But I don't think she'd betray us. Y'know, common enemy, common allies. Plus, there's Merle around..."

Carl sternly nodded. Rick followed the schlinks of metal rasping against metal, halting once he reached the quarters of the woman he searched for. Michonne sat on her bed, sharpening her blade with a rock. Her lips were wrung and her eyes transfixed on the wall ahead of her. She ceased her movements, revolving her gaze towards Rick. He leaned on the cell door.

"Gear up. We're leaving in five."

"Where to?"

"Kings County. For guns."

Michonne stared at him with a frown, as if trying to decipher something in his eyes.

"Need you to come along. Might have a lot of walkers."

Michonne turned her gaze away. "I'll meet you soon."

* * *

Merle toyed with the lid of a whiskey flask he found hidden underneath his mattress, unscrewing the lid and sealing it once more. Daryl sat next to him on the driver's seat of a pickup truck, his elbow slanted against the windowsill and his cheek leaning against his fist. Merle knew that the rest of the scavenging team wouldn't appreciate his presence, and he still wasn't sure if he would remain quiet or have some giggles at pissing them off. Further away, the nigger was readying a vehicle for the hunt along with his kid of mixed ethnicity. Merle glanced at the rearview mirror. The others were finishing up saying their goodbyes, or in his mind, wasting time. He rolled his window down and poked his head out.

"Let's go, y'all bunch 'a lollygaggers!" He said, before sliding his head back in and closing the window.

"Pfft. Y'know, ain't nobody pleased to have ya around." Daryl said, keeping his eyes riveted to the window. "So you better keep that mouth shut during the trip."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll say what I need t' say."

Tyreese spoke to Karen, whose hand discreetly rubbed his shoulder.

"Be safe out there, okay?" She said.

"I got my hammer. Ain't nothing bad gon' happen. You know that." Tyreese chuckled.

Andrea paced towards the truck with rapid footsteps, while Dale chased after her with a more dragged pace.

"Look, I still think I should go." He said.

"No, you really shouldn't." Andrea said. "Nobody can sharpshoot like I can. We're doing this for the best, you know that."

"Sure, sure. But what about Merle?"

"Don't worry about him. I've dealt with his misogynistic shit before. And I'm sure Daryl will keep an eye on him."

Dale sighed. "You better come back to me, you hear me?"

"Don't worry. I'll be fine."

Maggie and Glenn walked towards the truck, both of them suited up with riot gear. They held their helmets with their forearms pressing against their hips.

"Are you sure about this?" Glenn asked. "I mean, you really want to come?"

"You think I want to be away from my husband again, so soon after our wedding? No. If you're going, I'm going. That asshole is going to be real issue."

"Yeah. But it appears he's gonna stick around for long. Let's just ignore him and hope I can hold myself back from punching him."

"As long as Daryl doesn't leave again, I'll deal with it."

"How's the suit?"

"Crappy. It's pretty big on me, but it'll do the trick. It's uncomfortable, I don't know why you like wearin' it so much."

Maggie, Glenn, Tyreese and Andrea climbed onto the rear enclosure of the vehicle. Merle slipped the flask into his shirt pocket, craddling his assault rifle between his legs with the barrel aiming at the roof. He looked at rearview mirror, meeting the glowers of those sitting on the back. Daryl twisted the keys, revving up the engine. Merle turned his eyes back to the road, his voice devoid of any humor.

"This gon' be a fun ride."

Dale opened the gate for them. Daryl drove out of the complex, vanishing beyond the treeline. Lee opened the trunk of the Hyundai, tossing two assault rifles inside. Clementine sat on the trunk with a hop, following the gestures of the man with her eyes. Lee detected that she was holding back something on her tongue, but he had an idea of what it was.

"Can I go with you?"

Lee sighed, flicking his eyes through the sky before looking at her.

"You know it's not safe out there. Keeping you safe, keeping us safe, that's the purpose of this prison. And I would want you to be outside of its walls as little as possible."

"But what if something happens like last time? I should be there with you if that happens. We're a team."

Lee sighed again. "Yeah, we are."

"You said Rick's hometown is really far away. I don't want to be alone for long again."

"Yeah, well...you know the safety rules, right?"

"I do."

"Then you can come, if you behave. Never leave my side."

"I won't. I promise I'll never do that again. Not after last time."

Lee turned towards the girl, whose gaze sunk to the ground.

"Hey. Don't blame yourself for what happened. It wasn't your fault. What you should do is learn from your mistake to make sure it never happens again."

"It won't. I promise."

Lee forced a quick smile. Clementine hopped off the trunk and Lee wrenched down the door, which shut with a click. Michonne marched towards the car, hurrying to the passenger seat, while Rick and Carl strolled behind her at a more lackadaisical rhythm. Clementine's eyes followed the woman with the katana dangling off her back, while Rick went to sit next to Michonne and Carl went into the backseats.

"She's coming?" Clementine said.

Lee nodded and waved his head at her. He placed his hand on her back and led her out of earshot.

"Does Rick trust her?" Clementine said. "I don't think he likes other people too much. He doesn't like Molly."

"Well, he does it to keep us safe. It's just hard for him to trust people."

"Then why is she coming?"

"She doesn't like Merle. And if she finds herself alone with him...well, they could fight."

Clementine nodded. "Is Merle like the Governor?"

"No. But he's still a bad man. And I don't want you lingering around him, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Okay. Good. Now let's go."

Rick tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, awaiting for his friend to join them. He found himself with his gaze wandering through the forest. He perceived some white movement in the trees, a constant hallucination that he had learned to ignore. But it was always there, teasing him to go out there and chase after his delirious mirages. Michonne glanced at Rick, before locking her eyes on him. There was some kind of hypnosis fastening his eyes in place.

"See something?"

Rick sprang his head towards her, before giving her a negative head motion.

"N'aw."

* * *

Daryl guessed from the migration of the sun that they had been driving for hours. He stopped the car for a few minutes, giving them a break to piss, drink and stretch their legs. He remained in his seat, just waiting for everyone to be ready to proceed. He looked at his brother. Merle slumped in his seat, drool sliding out of his hanging lip, his eyes closed.

"Don't stare at me, Darylina."

"You tired or what?"

"Just tryin' to flake out a bit. It's called a power nap. Y'know, charge batteries whenever ya can."

Andrea scoped out the treeline with her gaze, sipping from a water bottle with her sniper rifle weighing down her collarbone. Tyreese walked up to her, shifting his attention to a walker treading among tall grass in the distance. Its footsteps were slow and clumsy, even for a walking corpse. He couldn't figure out if it had even spotted them or not. It seemed like it would take an hour for it to reach them.

"Uh...do you—?"

"I see it." Andrea said. "I'm just waiting until it gets closer. It was walking really funny, looked like it was walking away from us for a minute. I was making sure he'd reach us before I wasted a bullet."

Tyreese stretched his arm towards her rifle. "May I?"

"Yeah, sure, go ahead."

Tyreese slid the rifle from her shoulder. He grabbed it by the stock and the barrel idly and stared at the weapon.

"Just put the butt of the gun against your shoulder."

"Like this?" Tyreese said, holding the rifle horizontally with the stock touching his shoulder.

"Yeah. Now, just aim and squeeze the trigger. Slowly, don't jerk it."

Tyreese accustomed himself to the weight, directing the barrel towards the walker. He peeked down the scope, which trembled faintly with the minor movements of his body caused by his heartbeat. He leveled his aim with the skull of the walker, engulfing a long breath. He pulled back the trigger. The rifle roared and kicked his shoulder back. The bullet splintered the zombie's shoulder, which changed nothing about his lazy demeanor.

"Give it here." Andrea said. "We didn't bring enough bullets for this."

"Sorry." Tyreese sighed.

"Don't sweat it."

Andrea seized the weapon and aligned it with her target, with the quick finesse of months of training that made shooting a rifle look easy. Tyreese scratched his head. Such a common skill in the apocalypse, and yet he still hadn't gotten a hold of it. Andrea fired the second bullet. The impact with its cranium was invisible from such a distance, but the walker vanished beneath the tall grass. Merle stepped out of the truck, standing behind the passenger door.

"Hey, thanks for the wakeup call, really!"

Andrea snorted, shaking his head.

"What's his problem?" Tyreese said.

"Existing. That's his problem."

Tyreese nodded, shifting his gaze towards her rifle. "I suck at that. I'm just terrible with a gun. I can't get the hang of it, for some reason. When we get back to the prison, think you could give me some pointers? Help me out?"

"Sure, no problem. If these crazy people do attack, we'll need as many shooters as we can."

Merle clenched his fist as Andrea and Tyreese joined Glenn and Maggie on the rear of the pickup truck. He shook his head, heading towards the grass.

"Gon' take a quick leak."

He stopped after standing three steps away from the truck. He unzipped his flier. He emptied his bladder, while lifting his head and grinning. Glenn grunted.

"Nice."

"Maybe take it into the woods?" Andrea said.

"Hey, I ain't walkin' out there to get my pecker bitten off by a biter. 'Sides, I got my back turned so I don't see the issue." Merle said, making her sigh. "Why the hostility? C'mon, don't pout. Remind me, blondie, why didn't we get together back in Atlanta?"

"You're a pig and you called me a rug-muncher."

"Oh, yeah. Well, I got my hound out, so now's a good time to rectify—"

"Merle!" Daryl shouted. "What'd I tell you 'bout keeping your mouth shut?!"

"Hey, I was the one tryin' to solve conflicts, but she came at me!"

"Where's that military station, anyways?" Tyreese asked.

"Dunno. Maybe a few turnoffs away, we'll see."

Merle zipped his flier up, whistling a melody. He looked down, ceasing his tune. He narrowed his eyes. "What the hell?"

He squatted down. He had pissed all over a fallen road sign. He picked it by the edge that was untouched by the urine and elevated it, reading what was written. _Woodbury, 1. National Guard Station, 4._

"Check this out, y'all! We're just a couple miles away! We need to go right." Merle snickered. "Glad I pissed next to the truck now?"

* * *

The Georgia countryside was a continual and deserted landscape. Long concrete roads split vast and hairy forests in two. The leaves and grass had lost their vibrant hues, and there was nothing but undisturbed nature for miles. Aside from the loud grumbling of a Hyundai driving down the vacant roadways. Rick shut off his brain during the drive, letting his arm control the steering wheel without him thinking. The roads were untouched by humans, and he only snapped out of his train of thought when they crossed the occasional car wrecks or corpse piles that he had to swerve around.

There was a distant silhouette on the road. He straightened on his seat, narrowing his eyelids. Lee noticed the reaction of his friend and gazed in the same direction as him. There was a man traveling alone, with a massive orange backpack hefted on his back. Cooking pans and a machete dangled off the backpack. Rick accelerated. The man spun his gaze towards the car that speeded right by him. He chased after the vehicle, waving his arms in the air.

"_Hey, stop! Help! Please, don't go!_"

Rick didn't budge and kept the speed steady. Once he deemed that they had surpassed him enough, he slowed the vehicle down to an average velocity. Carl lowered his head without a word. Clementine took a knee on her seat, looking through the trunk window towards the man. She pivoted toward Lee. His gaze averted hers, but his dim reflection on the window revealed a spasm of culpability on his visage.

"Why aren't we stopping?"

Lee remained silent. He wanted to be the one who saved people. He wanted Clementine to know that he was capable of doing the right thing, no matter what. But things weren't so black and white anymore. They could not stop for a stranger. Not even if he was desperately chasing after them, pleading. He clenched his fist. Maybe had become too weak to always do the right thing. Clementine sat back down on her seat, her bulging eyes staring at her feet as her gut felt uneasy. Her question tarried on with no answer.

* * *

Rick and Lee froze in front of the precinct. The sight of the building overlapped with the one they had in their memories, but the actual edifice was wrecked. The windows were shattered, revealing flipped over desks and papers gliding in the wind. Lee glanced past his shoulder. The cookie-cutter houses and hospitable neighborhoods sprawled around them, except that they were hospitable no more. The occasional walker sentinel strolled by in the distance. Abandoned sedans and jeeps crashed into one another, along with a motorcycle that had penetrated the façade of a two-story house. It was like discovering that the world had ended a second time.

Rick took the first step inside the precinct. Clementine magnetized herself to Lee's footsteps, while Carl rested his hand on his pistol and Michonne latently touched her katana handgrip. Rick marched amid the fallen furniture, his eyes halting once he spotted his desk. It was still standing, with the name plaque fallen on the ground. _D.S. Rick Grimes. _He turned his gaze towards the hallway, which he remembered led to the armory. He led his friends through the narrow passageway. He reached the armory, his muscles locking him in place for a few seconds.

The metal grate door was slinging wide open. The shelves inside the grated cage were emptied of any weapon, aside from crumbled, empty ammunition boxes and about three or four bullet cartridges littering the ground. Lee cursed under his breath. Rick marched inside the vacant cubicle, running his hands down his hair. His lips twitched and he kicked the wall with a soft thud. Lee put his hands on his hips, regretting the wasted fuel to get there. Michonne bent forward, picking up a bullet from the ground and whirling it between her finger tips. _.357 caliber._

"You got any other police stations in town?" Michonne said.

"I _was_ the police here." Rick said. "Me and a few other guys. It ain't a big town."

"This can't be the only place we can search for guns." Lee said.

Rick flopped his hand above his scalp. "There's other places to check. May not have as many guns as were in here, but—"

"We need as many guns as were in here." Michonne said.

"Well, we need what we can get. Let's stick to that for now." Lee said.

"We want guns, there's a few places out on the main street." Rick said. "Bars, a liquor store. Owners had a gun or two behind the counter people didn't know 'bout. I did, I signed the permits. They might still be there."

Rick turned to Michonne.

"You got a problem with that approach?"

Michonne looked at him, her voice flat. "No, Rick. I don't have a problem."

She extended her arm towards him. Rick glanced at bullet, taking it and shoving it in his pocket.

* * *

Rick, Lee, Michonne, Clementine and Carl marched down the sidewalk, following the sheriff's lead through his hometown. Their eyes drifted about, taking in their surroundings. The further they progressed, the more clogged the roads became with wrecked cars smashed together in a mess. And the vestiges of human presence became more evident. Brick edifices were spray-painted with vague messages, which Lee read with a sharp eye.

_No guilt. You know that. _

Arrows had been tagged on the sidewalks, leading them to God-knows-where. Their direction happened to coincide with the path that Rick had leading them. The sheriff slowed down, coming across a pyre of skeletons on the road. The flesh had singed from the bodies, leaving only bones that were as dark as ash. A jerrican laid next to the pyre. Rick kept marching, and the convoy behind him imitated. Lee wondered if those traces of survivors were recent or just old History. Impossible to tell, which left the five of them walking on their toes.

Rick walked around a corner. He halted. His friends did the same. There had been work done in the boulevard that stretched out in front of them. The borderline of the street was walled off by barrels and pallets, except for the middle which allowed entrance. Cars were parked around the entryway, with sharp rods sticking out of them. On the roof of the cars, there were caged birds, cawing and flapping their birds, or sometimes rats, that squeaked and squealed. Two walkers had been trapped by the ruse, impaled to the spikes through the midsection. Blood stained their shirts, yet they vividly flailed their arms towards the birds. Lee looked below his feet, where another message had been tagged.

_Turn around and live._

Rick donned his Colt Python. Lee took his Glock from his belt. He grabbed Clementine's hand, and the quintet advanced into the boulevard. Nostalgia distracted Rick for a moment, who gazed at the road, at the grocery stores, the library and the cafés. He had droven in those roads, visited many of those establishments with his family and known the owners. Lee read another warning on a banner strung on the balcony of an apartment. _Just leave. _Clementine walked around a set of nine skateboards roped to one another. _A trap for the walkers to slip. _The façades had eroded and were decorated with crude graffiti.

"Looks like someone's already made this theirs." Michonne said.

"Doesn't mean they found what we're looking for." Rick said.

"You sure about that?" Lee said. "I bet that whoever set this up broke into that armory and took the guns."

"Maybe. I don't wanna go snooping around in these buildings. Couple of the places I told you about are just up ahead. Let's get whatever's left and get the hell outta here."

Rick ducked below a string of barbed wire that connected two cars by the side mirrors. He gestured towards the wire with his hand, warning his friends. He beamed his revolver at one of the shops on the side of the road.

"There. Tyrell's. One shotgun and two handguns. License issued to Tyrell Debbs."

An additional growl reached their ears. They halted, turning around. A female with slimy, raven hair shambled towards them, spitting at them. Lee marched towards the walker, raising his blade.

"No." Rick said. "It'll get caught."

Lee looked back at his friend, lowering his blade. He stared at the walker. The woman walked into the barbed wire, which dug into her abdomen. She bent at a slight angle, her arms reaching out for Lee. He took a step forward. His instincts told him that each walker he didn't kill could be a threat that bit him in the ass later. He raised his blade. A gunshot blared from behind, piercing the walker's skull. Lee hopped back, bending his knees. _A rifle gunshot. _He sprang around towards the rooftops, with his friends doing the same thing. A man with a biker helmet and kneepads stood on the rooftop of a two-story apartment building, with the beak of an assault rifle gawking down at them.

"Hands!"

Lee rushed to Clementine, standing in front of her with his knees always plied. The five of them raised their hands, with Rick and Lee still holding their handguns towards the sky. Rick drew a breath, feeling bubbles in his spine. Through his peripheral vision, he examined what kind of cover there was. A pickup truck to his right, a sedan to his left.

"Now you drop what you got and you go! Your guns, your shoes, and that sword! All of it! Ten seconds!"

"Run for the car now." Lee whispered.

"But—" Clementine said.

"Just do it."

"Ten!"

"We need that rifle. I think I can get up there." Michonne said.

Rick glanced at her. He turned back towards the man. He made a decision.

"Carl, go!"

Rick spiraled in an acute angle, firing a bullet at the sniper. He dived behind the pickup truck, bucking his back against the vehicle. He felt the truck rattle with the bullets that rained down upon it. He darted a glance in all directions, assessing the situation. Michonne disappeared inside a café that butted against the sniper's building. Clementine covered her ears while ducked behind the sedan, with Lee next to her, whom fired back at the sniper. The gunfire was directed towards him, forcing Lee to shrink into cover. Rick panted, fishing the bullet from his pocket and sliding it into the cylinder.

The gunfire ceased. _Reloading. _Rick sprang out of cover, his arm stretched out. The man had vanished from the rooftop. There was a shadow in the adjoining roof. Rick aimed towards it, but was greeted with Michonne standing there instead. She jerked her arms to her sides. Lee grinded his teeth, shooting glimpses all around him while slowly erecting himself. Before he could spot the attacker, an array of bullets flying near him forced him back behind the sedan. Rick sprang around. The man was now out on the street, redirecting the rifle towards him. He crouched, circling around the truck that received the bullets for him. Rick clenched his fist, holding his revolver near his face. He was cornered. Only one choice. Do or die. He jumped to his feet, rapidly taking aim.

Carl burst out from the alcove of a grocery shop, firing a single bullet into the man's chest. The man collapsed on the ground, losing his footing from the devastating shock. His rifle stopped barking, dying down along with its owner. Rick marched towards the man with the barrel of his gun drawn towards him, a kill instinct commanding him to check if the menace was terminated or not. He towered above the limp man. No breathing movement was perceptible. Lee and Clementine joined him by his side, along with Michonne who jogged out of the café with her katana raised. Rick kept the pistol in the same spot while he glanced at Carl. The young boy stared at his victim, inhaling regular breaths.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

He gulped after punctuating his sentence, but his voice was firm.

"Lee said to get to the car. You should've done that. I didn't want you to have to do that—"

"I had to." Carl said, spinning his gaze to his father.

Lee looked down at the man. The bullethole in his flannel shirt wasn't bleeding. He lowered his stance, downing his fist on his chest. He struck a hard matter.

"He's wearing body armor. He's alive."

"Do we care?" Michonne said.

The question was left unanswered. Lee tore open the man's flannel shirt. There was a bulletproof vest strapped to his torso. He unstripped the protective garment, raising the t-shirt beneath. The man's dark skin was painted with a large hematoma on his rib cage. Lee lowered his vest back down, before taking off his helmet. He was about to set it aside. But his eyes locked on the man's face. Michonne, Clementine and Carl remained nonchalant, but Rick was left dumbfounded just like his friend. Lee puckered his forehead, stiffening his auricular muscles.

It was Morgan. Lee let out a breath.

"Yeah."

* * *

The National Guard Station was enclosed with a metal fence, yet the compound had been abandoned for a long time. The car barrier in the entrance was broken in half, and the hangars and warehouses within the perimeter were left with their gargantuan sliding doors chasmed. There was an abundance of crates speckling the picture of the station. A lonely walker roamed in the distance. Tyreese turned to Andrea.

"Andrea, could you…?"

"Oh, sorry."

She reached for her rifle, taking aim and picking off the distant walker. Its silhouette withered in the near horizon like crumbled paper.

"We oughta split up." Daryl said. "This place's fenced so there probably ain't too many walkers."

"Everybody, stay alert." Tyreese said.

"I ain't gonna be takin' any naps in here." Merle said.

"Let's go, hubby. Let's find some bullets." Maggie smiled.

"Yeah, bullets." Glenn chuckled.

* * *

Merle shoved the warehouse door open with his back. Daryl rushed inside after him, with the snout of his crossbow and his flashlight sniffing out the penumbrous location. He pussyfooted into the warehouse, peeking behind crates, barrels, and the shelves that were stocked with an infinity of boxes and reached the tall ceiling like skyscrapers. Anywhere a walker could be in hiding. Merle adjoined his brother, scanning their environs while holding his assault rifle downwards at chest height. Nothing. No biters.

"C'mon, little brother. Can't overstay our welcoming."

Merle headed towards a toppled crate near the entrance, where he saw an ammunition box spilling out. He redressed the crate and dragged it to the door, while Daryl opened a few boxes and crates, rapidly assessing the content.

"You can't keep acting cocky like that, bro." Daryl said.

Merle chuckled. "The reason bein'?"

"Maybe not gettin' your ass kicked out?"

"Please. No matter what I do, a boot will find its way to my ass, and my ass will find its way kicked outta the prison. D'ya really think that y'er crew will put up with me for long?"

"All you gotta do is stop acting like an asshole."

Merle grinned. "That ain't me, little brother. Ain't who I am. This a dog world, and I'm always intendin' to be the goddamned rottweiler. And even if I became Saint Nicholas himself, it wouldn't change how those people look at me."

"That ain't true. But you're too fucking blind to see it. Learn to swallow your pride for once."

Merle lost his smile, marching towards his brother. Daryl straightened himself, meeting his stare.

"I'm just looking at the way shit is, little brother." Merle deadpanned. "These people, they look at me like I'm the devil. That's all I'll ever be for them. And if the pretty little Nubian queen ever gets the shot to put her blade to my neck, she will. Ain't no family in there for me. All I'll ever have is your worthless ass, man."

* * *

Rick and Lee hoisted Morgan up, wrapping his arms around their neck. The two friends carried him towards the house he had come from, his feet dragging along the asphalt. Their memories were blurry, but that two-story house wasn't the same he was living in when it all started. Lee and Rick headed for the front door, with the hospitable door mat greeting them at the household. _Welcome._

"Wait!"

Rick and Lee froze at the blaring of Michonne's voice. Lee twirled his gaze towards her. She fixated her flinty stare towards the door mat. She kneeled next to it, yanking the door mat off the ground. There was a hole dug beneath it, with an assortment of knives sticking up, staring back up at them. She dropped the door mat back down. Rick nodded at her and frowned, keeping a mental note to look out for more traps in the house. He and Lee tiptoed over the pit of blades, entering the house.

The living room was almost untouched. The furniture was placed in their typical spots as one would find in a household from before the global doomsday. The first floor was dark however, with all of the windows having been boarded up. Rick and Lee headed towards the staircase, feeling a tingle in their spines. All of the house could be booby-trapped. They stopped in front of the stairwell. A set of curtains midway through the stairs gave them another warning. _Not shitting you. _Lee hesitated. He put his foot on the first step, but didn't advance any further. Rick shot a glance towards his feet. If he were to place a trap, he'd place it there. And the warning in the curtains were enough evidence. A tripwire glinted near his tibia. Rick patted his friend's elbow. Lee looked at him, before directing his gaze towards the tripwire.

"Watch the wire, Clem."

Clementine nodded from behind. Lee passed his feet over the wire. Rick bent down and raised Morgan's feet over it, before proceeding up the stairs. Lee yanked the curtains open. A phantom dagger itched his solar plexus. A fireaxe was hung upside down from the ceiling, the blade staring at him right in the eyes, thin cables connecting the weapon to the tripwire. Rick jerked his head towards the bedroom. They dragged him inside his room, only to petrify at the bizarrely sickening and satisfying sight.

The walls were chalked with messages, as if Morgan's mind was translated into words there. But what stunned them was the amount of weaponry he had in there. Assault rifles were lined up against the walls, along with pistols, shotguns, sniper rifles, grenades, batons and ammunition boxes, just butted against the walls or scattered around the room. Rick tried to count the guns, but quickly gave up on it, assuring to himself that there were nearly sixty guns in there. It seemed like they couldn't take a step in the room without tripping over a handgun or a rifle. Lee took a look at the words written on the walls. Most of them were debriefings of supply hunts, while others were just the rambling journal of a fragile mind. But there two entries that stood out in thick, red letters.

The word "clear" was recurrant amidst the cryptic epistles. And there was one sentence that was written in capital letters and bigger than the others. _DUANE TURNED. _Lee swallowed his saliva, stiffing his brows at it. He gestured towards the message with his chin. Rick followed his direction, reading those same words.

"Fuck." Lee said.

"I, uh...I showed him the weapon locker last year." Rick said.

"It had all of this in it?" Michonne said with a whisper.

"No. Not even half."

"Have you seen this place? He's been busy." Lee said.

"Hey, Lee. Cot."

Lee nodded, and dragged Morgan towards his cot. He let go of the man, and Rick dropped him on his mattress. He did not shift from his awkward position, laying with his stomach down. Lee drew a few heavy breaths, wiping his forehead. His eyes found themselves once again spooring the babbles of the walls. It appeared that Morgan had become a shell of his former self, something that tensed his spine.

"Man...I'm not sure that's still Morgan in there." Lee said.

Metal clinks reached his ears. Lee turned around. Michonne had a duffel bag opened in her hand, while the other reached for a gun. Carl scooped up four ammunition boxes, carrying them to the bag. Clementine stood by Lee. She looked up at him and he met her gaze. The twinkle in her eyes were begging him for something. Begging him to not repeat the mistakes of the past.

"We can't just take these guns, Lee. Can we?"

Lee gulped, rubbing his fingers. He shut his eyes, exhaling a heavy burden from his chest. _The station wagon. _He cracked his eyes.

"Hey, hold up. We're not just taking his stuff without permission." Lee said.

"It's not like he's short on firepower." Michonne said. "We need these guns. Once he wakes up, you can reason with him, or deal with him."

Lee sighed, looking at Clementine. _I did all I could. _He averted her gaze. Rick would have taken those guns with no hesitation in the past, but he felt a drop of guilt of just taking from an old friend. He let them stuff the bag with weaponry for the meanwhile, however. He marched over to a gun shelf. Lee grasped his forearm.

"C'mon, man. Let's not take any of his stuff for now."

"I'm not taking anything for now, don't worry."

Lee nodded at him, releasing his grip on him. Rick marched towards an M16 assault rifle that was angled towards a pile of crates. He squatted down, grabbing the barrel. His eye caught something particular. A walkie-talkie on the ground. He felt his breaths turn to ice as he picked up the object, sensing his heart pound harder. He held the radio near his lips, like he often had during the days in the quarry. His eyes trailed off, falling upon that same spine-chilling phrase. _DUANE TURNED._

"Stop." Rick commanded, making Michonne and Carl stop and look at the sheriff. "Stop. We wait for him to wake up."

"Are you serious? He tried to kill us." Michonne said.

"He told us to go. He didn't know who we were."

"He tried to kill us and we didn't leave him for the walkers. He's had a good day. And he doesn't need half these guns. I mean, have you seen this place? The axe, the spikes, the walls?"

"You think he's crazy?" Lee asked.

"No, I think he's dangerous."

Rick sighed. "We're gonna wait for him to wake up."

Rick glanced around the room, locking his eyes upon a set of zip-ties. He took them and tied up Morgan's hands in front of his stomach. Michonne rolled her eyes, dropping on a chair. Rick raised himself to his feet, turning towards her. She picked up a cereal bar from a crate, shredding the package and taking a crunchy bite. Lee let a mused and frustrated exhale.

"We're eating his food now?" Lee said.

Michonne shrugged. "The mat said 'Welcome'." She said, her voice muffled by the food.

Carl distanced himself from the duffel bag, walking through an arch to an adjoining room. Instead of words, the walls were chalked up with a map of Kings County. He tried to get his bearings with a purpose in mind, recognizing the layout. He followed the chalked roads towards his house, which was labeled as "Rick's house". Morgan had marked that was burned. He gulped, blinking faster at imagining his household turned to ashes, with all of the good moments spent inside turned to cinders as well. He focused his mind once more on what he was searching, forgetting about his home. He flashed a glance over each arrow and indication on the map, until he fell upon the building he was looking for. _Kings County __C__afé._

"I'm going on a run." Carl said.

Rick shot him an uncertain glare. "Where?"

Carl walked towards his father. "I thought, you know, the thing people didn't loot was cribs, and there's that baby place that Mom's friend Sara ran. It's just around the corner."

"Carl..."

"Dad! It's just around the corner. And there's those walker traps."

"You're gonna need some help carrying the box." Michonne said.

Carl looked at her. "What?"

"If you're gonna get a crib, you have to get the box." Michonne said, turning her eyes towards him. "It's big and heavy. You're gonna need help carrying the box. You _are_ getting a crib, right?"

Carl lowered his eyes for a second, before meeting her gaze once more.

"That's what I said."

Michonne revolved her eyes towards the wall in front of her.

"Then I'll go with him."

Rick glanced at Lee, who shrugged at him. _It's your call to make. _Rick played with his fingers for a moment, his eyes sunken to the floor, before he faced Carl once more.

"Right there, that's the deal. Around the corner. You get into trouble, you holler, okay? We'll hear it from here."

* * *

Tyreese parked the military truck that he had found with Andrea near the entrance of the guard station, before leaving the cab and meeting up with his friends at the rear. Glenn stood on the rear enclosure of the vehicle, serving as a middle man between the crates that were hauled onto the trunk and Maggie who passed him the supplies. Their bounty was thinner than they had hoped for, with only a few guns and about twenty magazines. The abundant treasure in there was the gasoline. There were dozens of jerricans in the hangars, and they had been able to take about half of the gas with them. Glenn turned to Maggie, who lifted a crate off the ground.

"You got it, Maggie?"

"Shut up, I'm stronger than you."

"Think this is the last of it. Ain't much left." Daryl said.

"That it? You think we've found everything we can find?" Andrea said.

"Guess so." Tyreese said. "It's not much but this trip was worthwhile. Almost for the gas alone."

"So, we're just leaving this place?" Andrea said.

"Can't exactly take anything else, blondie." Merle said.

"But what if they use it? They can still use the gas and the weapons we didn't take."

"You want to burn it up or something?" Tyreese said. "There's not a whole lot here that we didn't take. And who's to say we won't need to come back here for the gas? It wouldn't be wise to destroy this place."

"I'm just saying that these people are getting their gas from here." Andrea said. "If their supply suddenly ran dry, that could work in our favor."

Tyreese rubbed his chin, considering her proposal. Merle stepped in between the two.

"That, right there, is the dumbest thing I've ever heard." Merle said. "You burn this place down, biters will come from everywhere. Not to mention that they'll see this place blowing up."

"We didn't ask for your opinion." Andrea said.

"But y'all need it! Look, I'm dead serious here. Y'all burn this place down, it'll be the devil himself that'll come back to bite y'er ass."

* * *

Carl marched out of the house, keeping his footsteps rapid. He squeezed his lips, sensing Michonne trying to catch up to him. She frowned at the boy from behind, who seemed like he was trying to outrun her. _Something's off about him._

"You don't have to come with me. I can handle it." Carl said.

"I told your dad I'd help you." Michonne said.

"Hmph. Yeah, okay."

The duo reached the end of the street, after ducking beneath the cord of barbed wire. The two halted their march, as a skinny walker roamed towards them, taunting them with snarls. Carl pointed his finger towards the zombie.

"Guess we should take care of that."

Michonne tilted his head at him, faking a smile. _Oh, really? _"Hmm."

She unsheathed her katana, thumping towards the walker. She thrust the blade into its skull, retracting it and swooping the blood off the blade. Her eyes followed the walker's descent, before they turned back towards Carl. There was a blank in the spot that he stood on earlier. She stiffened. Where was he? If she lost sight of the boy, she would surely get an earful from Rick. Her gaze spun towards her side. Carl bolted down the street, vanishing around the corner. She twisted her lips. _I knew he was up to something._

"Shit."

She chased after him, jogging around the corner. He was strolling down the sidewalk, as if he had thought that he had lost her. She reached him and pulled him back by the shoulder, making him spin around and stare into her eyes.

"What the hell was that?!"

"I want to do this on my own."

Carl walked away. Michonne glanced to her side. The baby supply store was on the opposite side of the crosswalk, with cribs and bassinets displayed beyond its windowed façade. Yet Carl had walked right past it.

"You just passed the baby place."

"I'm getting Judith something else first. Okay?"

* * *

Lee paced around the room, reading the sentences on the wall. Clementine was by his side, trying to understand what Morgan meant with all those confusing statements. Rick sat next to Morgan, who still laid on his cot with his back turned to the sheriff. Lee tried to find some kind of coherence or at least a linear timeline, but didn't find anything. Sometimes, he chuckled at that reflex. In the History books he spent most of his life studying, there was always chronology and organization. But those sorts of things had died along with the world a long time ago. He essayed to theorize on what that recurrant word meant. _CLEAR. CLEAR. CLEAR. _It was persistent throughout the bedroom, but there was no meaning attached to them.

"Did you know that man before?" Clementine asked.

"Yeah." Lee said. "When I left the hospital with Rick and we went to his house, his son knocked me out with a shovel." Lee let out a sad chuckle. "They took us in for the night before we left."

"He wasn't crazy like this before, right?"

"N'aw." Lee shook his head. "I'm worried he's no longer the Morgan we knew. But we'll have to wait and see."

Lee stopped near a closet door in the adjoining room, which he hadn't inspected yet. He revolved the handle, but the door did not open. _Locked. _He forgot about it, guessing that it was where he stocked his food and kept it under lock and key to prevent losing it to raiders and looters. Although that probably wasn't an issue, considering the clever and unexpected traps set up around the house. Rick glanced at his friend, before turning his stare towards Morgan's back. He still faintly remembered his son. Hell, he didn't even remember his name until he saw it scribbled upon the walls, announcing his fate.

"I'm sorry this happened to you."

Rick got up, walking around the room. He scratched his head, searching for something to do. He set his eyes upon a sniper rifle with a wooden frame. _A Remington 700 BDL. _The gun that he gave Morgan. He picked up the weapon, holding it tightly in his hands and looking down the scope. He heard a metal object clang behind him, like a bullet cartridge hitting the floor. He frowned, looking at the bolt of the rifle. It was shut closed. He turned around. Morgan was slumbering in the same position. He turned back around. Mattress springs creaked. He sprang back around. Morgan rushed at him with a knife, yelling a war cry.

He swung the stock of the rifle, striking his cheekbone. Morgan collapsed on the ground, grasping a cardbox that fell down with him. Lee and Clementine pirouetted towards the noise, laying their eyes on the fallen Morgan. Lee beckoned at Clementine to stay behind, before he jogged towards his friend. Rick held his sniper rifle away with one hand, while holding his other palm in front of him. Morgan darted his bulging glances around the room.

"Do you remember me?! Do you know who I am?!" Rick said.

"People wearing dead people's faces!"

Morgan jumped to his feet and tackled Rick against the wall, aiming his knife at him. Rick kept his grip latched on his wrist, grunting as he locked his arm muscles in place. He stared into Morgan's eyes that were thirsty to kill him. Lee ran up to Morgan. His elbow struck his nose, making Lee stagger to the floor. Morgan swung Rick around to the floorboards, pinning him down with his knee and pushing the knife down, barely held back by Rick.

"You don't clear! You just die!"

"You know me, Morgan!"

"I don't know anyone anymore!"

Lee hurried onto a sitting position, wiping a few drops of blood from his nostrils. He turned to Clementine. Her visage was contracting with dread while her gleaming eyes peered down the aiming notch of her handgun, which was steered towards Morgan. Lee held out a hand towards her.

"No, Clem! Don't shoot him!"

"You don't clear!"

Morgan dug the blade into Rick's shoulder. He let out a scream, the pain feeding his fury. He gathered his strengths and kicked Morgan off of him. The knife flew from his grip as he crumbled onto his back. Rick hurried to his feet, clutching his bleeding shoulder, while Morgan sat on the ground and crawled back until his spine touched the wall. Rick whipped out his revolver, marching towards him and casting the pistol towards him.

"You know us, you crazy son of a bitch!"

Lee rose to his feet, watching as he wondered if his friend would pull the trigger. Morgan panted, glancing at the barrel of the gun before staring at Rick, with no trace of fear for the gun. The rage in his face began to soften, and his furious breaths began to quiver and stutter, the glint in his eyes intensifying. He leaned closer to the revolver, stretching his arms outwards as if he was offering himself to a higher power. His voice shattered into whimpers.

"Please...do it...please...just kill me!"

* * *

Morgan did not budge as Rick zip-tied him to a gun shelf again, this time with his hands behind his back. Lee frowned, not sure how to react to the transition of Morgan trying to kill them to just being there, motionless. Shellshock kept his eyes riveted to the same blank space on the floorboards, while his breaths were dragged and fast-paced. Lee turned to Rick. There was an incision in the shoulder region of his beige shirt, that was stained with a blood splotch.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." Rick winced. "There's a kit over there. I'll patch myself up."

Rick walked towards the cot, dropping on it and sliding a medkit out from next to the bedside table. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. He opened the medkit, fishing out a roll of bandages and rolling them around his chest and over the incision in his shoulder, that had only pierced a few centimeters of his flesh. Lee walked over to Clementine, putting a hand on her shoulder. She had her arms folded, her lip slightly drooped. She raised her gaze up at Lee.

"Everything's alright now. You okay?"

"Yeah." Clementine said. "I'm just glad I didn't have to shoot him."

Rick put his shirt back on, buttoning it and scrubbing the blood stain on the shoulder for a brief second, which didn't go away.

"Please, just kill me..." Morgan said. "Just kill me...ju—just kill me, just kill me..."

"You found us last year in my front yard, Morgan." Rick said. "You and...you found me. Me and Lee. You fed us, told us what was happening. You saved us. My name is Rick Grimes. You know me. I'm not wearing a dead man's face."

Rick walked over to Morgan, squatting in front of him. He tried to catch his gaze, but Morgan's was slippery. He took the walkie-talkie from his belt and put it in front of his face. Morgan encased his eyes on the object.

"I gave you this. I said I'd turn it on every day at dawn so you could find me."

Morgan stared at the radio. His breathing turned inaudible and his eyebrows narrowed. The shellshock wresting his visage thawed and neutralized, before making Lee sense that the person in him began to resurface. His eyes shined with confusion as they flicked around the room, as if memories were hitting him all at once. Lee straightened. Was the true Morgan returning to them? Morgan looked at Rick with a quizzical frown, but this time the being in his gaze had been awakened and turned lucid.

"Rick? I know you." Morgan looked at Lee, releasing sad chuckles. "I know you too. Oh, man—dammit, I—I know you."

His voice now had a frail timbre to it, instead of the automatic, babbling killing machine they had witnessed earlier.

"I know who you are. You said you'd turn yours on at dawn. That's what you said. I mean, I—I hadn't worked up to it yet, and...then I did. On the roof, every morning for days, for weeks, me and my boy. And then...me. But nothing but static. And then nothing and nothing but nothing. You weren't there. You were never there."

"I was there."

"Not when I tried!" Morgan raised his tone, his eyes flashing between the radio and Rick. "I mean, you said you would turn on your radio every day at dawn!"

"Morgan, I—"

"You said that you would turn on your radio—!"

"I did!"

"—every day at dawn and you. Were. Not! There!"

Rick stared at Morgan, who blew air into his cheeks and had intense embers glowering in his eyes once more. Rick swept a bead of sweat from his forehead. Lee frowned at the man's emotional surge.

"I kept..." Rick said, dropping his hand against his leg. "I kept getting pushed farther out. We had to, we didn't have a choice. I found my wife and my boy. I had people. I had to keep them safe. We kept getting pushed back deeper into the country. I—I swear to God...I didn't have a choice."

"We started getting attacked by walkers more and more often." Lee said. "We had to hit the road. Atlanta was a bust from the start."

Morgan nodded, inhaling a fiery breath and turning to Rick. "Your wife—did she…? Did she...turn?"

Rick sighed. "No. She died."

"Huh." Morgan nodded as he released the air from his torso, reeling back his upper lip with his stare nailed to Rick. "So you didn't have to see that, then. Not like me. No, no." Morgan turned his gaze towards a void, his voice quavering. "Not like me, not like my wife. Y'all remember what happened to her?"

Rick and Lee nodded.

"You remember what she was? Yeah." Morgan nodded with a weak smile, that vanished once he laid eyes on the Remington leaning against a crate nearby. "Oh...you gave the gun. You tried to get me to do it."

"What did I try, Morgan?" Rick said. "What did I try?"

"You tried to get me to do it, 'cause I was supposed to do it. I was supposed to kill her, my Jenny. Knew I was supposed to, but..."

Morgan paused. He looked at Rick, shrugging with a decrepit simper.

"...I let it go." Morgan said it as if it were a casual thing, but his tone was simply in contrast to his broken psyche. "Let it go like there wasn't gonna be a reckoning. We was always lookin' for food, y'know, it always came down to food. I was checking out a cellar and I didn't want Duane to come with me and then when I came up…"

Morgan looked away from Rick, riveting his widened and bright eyes to the ceiling as if he was taking in the sights of an angel, his jaw hanging low. His voice left his throat in a mutter.

"She was standing there right in front of him and he had his gun up...and he couldn't do it...so I called to him. And he turned...and then she was just...on him!"

His last two words shifted to a rageful tone and Morgan constricted his lips, as if he tried to imitate his zombified wife's thirst for flesh. Morgan sniffled, his visage strained by pain and his voice now teeming with fury.

"And I see red...all I see is red! Everything is red! Everything I see is red! And I do it! Finally...finally was too late...I was supposed to...I was selfish...I was weak..."

"It's not your fault, Morgan." Lee said.

"Oh, but it is." Morgan said, his tone counterbalancing and the rage in his visage mitigating. He turned to Rick. "You gave me the gun."

Morgan looked at Clementine. The little girl scurried behind Lee's legs.

"She your daughter?"

"No." Lee said. "But...I look after her."

Morgan turned to Rick. "Hey, your boy...is he dead?"

"No." Rick said.

"No? He will be." Morgan nodded. "The little girl, too. See, 'cause people like you, the good people, they always die. And the bad people do too. But the weak people...the people like me...we have inherited the Earth!"

* * *

_King County Café. _Michonne read the sign written with curvy and friendly writing, situated above the dual door of the rustic building that the boy had led her to. The front of the café was framed with tall windows, but so much dust had collected in them that they had turned opaque, impossible to see through. The esplanade had seen its share of chaos, with its chairs and tables strewn everywhere. Carl wiped some of the dust off the window. He peeked through the dirty glass, barely getting a good view of the dark café. He reached for the door handle. Michonne wrenched his arm back and stepped in front of him.

"You think I'm just gonna let you go in there?!"

"I think it's none of your business! You don't know me, you don't know my dad."

"I'm here to help."

"You're here because my dad doesn't trust you enough to be alone at the prison, that's it. I'm going to do this. And I know how I can. You can't stop me."

Michonne sighed, looking up and shaking her head. She lowered her head towards the boy once more.

"I can't stop you. But you can't stop me from helping you."

* * *

Daryl drove the military truck out into the road with Merle by his side, while the others led them with the pickup truck at the front of the convoy. The blasts of explosions made the vehicle tremble, but Daryl shrugged off the tremors. Merle sneered as he stared at the side mirror. A rising cloud of fire and black smoke snaked towards the sky, ingurgitating the military outpost within it. He could not give a shit if his brother's crew hated him, but he hadn't expected them to be so stupid to the point of not listening to his advice. Advice that could be vital to them.

"Y'er people are gon' get us all fucking killed." Merle said.

The pickup truck ahead of them began to slow down, until it halted upon the road. Daryl braked the vehicle. Maggie stepped out of the passenger seat and walked up to them. Merle grumbled.

"We're wasting time..."

"Hey, Daryl!" Maggie said.

Daryl poked his head out of the window.

"What is it, Mag? We gotta haul ass 'fore them soldiers come."

"Since they'll be distracted with the guard station, we should hit that Walmart we passed by. We could use the supplies."

Merle thought about contradicting the idiotic idea. They needed to get the hell out of there, yet their game plan was to linger around for longer than necessary. He held his tongue. His advice would fall on deaf ears. Daryl sighed. He knew that they shouldn't be out there for too long. He glanced towards his brother, before turning to Maggie.

"Look, we's pushing our luck as it is." Daryl said.

"We might not get another chance at those supplies." Maggie said. "I mean, we're well-stocked, but only for now. In a few weeks, rationing will get tighter. We need food and whatever useful things might be in there."

Daryl sighed. "Fine. We get in and get out in five, tops. We gotta be quick."

"Yeah, quick. Got it."

* * *

The huge complex of Walmart was even more devastated than the guard station. While the outpost just seemed abandoned, the vast shopping center was a wreck. Not surprising, considering that during an emergency, people always rush to the grocery stores. Shopping carts were strewn around the place, most of them toppled over. Some of the cash registers were open, full to the brim with useless money. The majority of the shelves had been emptied, and there was no one left to restock. There were only scraps, with lonely food items sitting on the shelves or thrown around the floor. Glenn stared at the cloud of smoke, as he and the others stood in the entrance, near the checkout counters.

"Yeah, there's no way they won't notice that." Glenn said.

Tyreese erected a cart from the ground. "We can't take these down the aisles. Too much of a mess. Haul what you find back here and we'll load things onto the truck after."

The six survivors split up into three teams. Maggie followed after Andrea while Tyreese and Glenn headed towards the grains aisle. Merle and Daryl jogged into the beverage aisle. It had been ransacked to the core, aside from a water pallet and two bottles of orange juice. Daryl hefted the water six-pack, while Merle hurriedly clutched the two bottles in his armpit. He jerked his head towards the next aisle.

"C'mon, Daryl, hurry up!"

"Geez, I'm comin'!"

"Fuck, we shouldn't even be here!"

* * *

Tyreese and Glenn pushed two carts towards the entrance. They were filled halfway with canned pasta, tomatoes and several rice packs that had been left behind, along with a bunch of condiments, that were far from filling but always more tasteful. Andrea, Maggie, Merle and Daryl were in the last aisle, collecting whatever was left. Tyreese and Glenn left their carts next to the one Daryl had left at the exit, containing water and juice bottles, batteries and a few gardening tools.

"Should I go ahead and put all this stuff in the back of the truck?" Glenn said.

"That'll take too much time." Tyreese said. "We'll wait 'til everyone's done and then we'll load up everything at the same time. And, Glenn, I know we need as much of this stuff as possible, but I don't wanna be here much longer. Okay?"

"Seems like a plan to me. I'll...oh, shit."

Glenn iced his gaze on the exterior of the store. Tyrees frowned, following his line of sight outside. He raised his eyebrows, spreading his eyelids and lowering his jaw.

Bruce Cooper marched towards the store with three of his men, the four of them equipped with assault rifles.

* * *

Michonne slowly opened the front door of the café. She peeked inside. There was a little bell hanging from the doorknob. She clenched the clapper to silence it. Growls came from within. In the darkness, she counted about ten walkers, laying on the ground or still sitting down at a table with their heads slumped against the table surface, just like they were when they died. Michonne looked down at her feet, where she had a skateboard with a caged rat strapped to it. She kicked the skateboard inside. The walkers lazily perked up, before rushing to the caged rat and piling around it.

Michonne skidded inside with Carl at her heel, the two of them keeping their footsteps light. The walkers had their backs turned to them. They circled around the saloon, heading for the oval bar counter. Carl fixated his eyes on a dusty picture framed above the counter, out of his reach. He climbed onto a stool, putting a foot on the counter as he grabbed the picture. He solidified, feeling a hand grasping his ankle. He looked down. The undead café server had risen from behind the counter, and was opening its jaws to his ankle. He wanted to let out a scream, but no sound came out. Michonne drove her blade through its skull with a fleshy noise. She glanced at the herd huddled in the center of the café. One of the walkers glanced in their direction, before returning to the task of clawing at the rat.

Michonne squeezed her lips. _Too much noise. _She grabbed the cadaver by the hair and slid her blade out, before resting its head back down on the counter. Carl took a knee on the stool before setting his feet back down on the floor. The two stepped towards the door. An animal squeak reached their ears. They froze, looking down. The rat they had caged sprinted between their legs. Their eyes sprang back towards the horde, that was up on its feet and shambling towards them.

"Fuck!"

Michonne snagged Carl by the wrist and yanked him towards the front doors. He dropped the photo. His eyes riveted to the fallen object. He tried to fight back the force pulling him away, but failed. The former cook of the café stumbled towards Michonne, his skin turned to black from flames. She cleaved its skull horizontally in two, before she managed to penetrate into the sunlight, shutting the door behind her with her back. She backed away from the doors. The walkers inside rubbed their palms against the windows, their handprints being the only visible part of them beyond the dusty glass. Carl stood near the door.

"No! We need to go back in there! It's the only one. I need to!"

"Not like this! Look, I don't know you. I get that. But can you do something for me? Wait here."

"I can help—!"

"No! And no more bullshit! You wait here. That's how we get it done."

Carl remained austere, wanting but not able to argue. Michonne circled around the corner. Carl leaned his back against the dual doors, ignoring the snarls and the hands tapping the glass. He considered going back in there instead, but he was tired from being stubborn. He just waited. It was nice. Not doing anything for a minute or so, until Michonne returned to him.

She had one hand behind her back, while the other held the picture out towards him. Carl glanced at her with warmer eyes, before snatching the photo and scanning it. He formed a brief smile. His dad and mom were in the picture, smiling at the camera, while he sat between the two with a wide grin, cuddled by his parents' hug. Michonne felt the corner of her lip raise a little.

"I just...I just thought Judith should...should know what her mom looked like."

Michonne nodded, as the two marched their way back towards the boulevard.

"Thank you."

"I was gonna go back there anyway. I just couldn't leave this behind."

Michonne stretched out the hand that she had behind her back. She was holding a caricatured statuette of a rainbow-colored cat. Carl shook his head with a chuckle, examining the absurdity of the object. Michonne broadened her smirk.

"It's just too damn gorgeous."

* * *

Rick took a knee next to Morgan, lost in his thoughts. Lee and Clementine stood a few meters away, the former having crossed his arms over his chest. Rick took out his knife. He cut his zip-ties. Morgan rubbed his wrists, looking at Rick with a neutral gaze and a nod. He rose to his feet. He looked at the locked closet on the adjoining room. Then, his hardened visage started to falter.

"I did it, finally." Morgan said. "But when it came to Duane...when it was his turn...I was too weak..."

He walked towards the locked door, sniffling. His chin jittered. Lee and Rick exchanged a frown. Lee motioned at Clementine to stay behind, before following after Morgan. He fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, opening it freely on its hinges. Lee and Rick converged to the closet. Their faces turned to stone, at the same time that a moan resounded in the room. There was a young boy leashed by a chain, about Carl's age. His dark skin contrasted off his milky eyeballs, as his short arms reached for the adults standing a few steps away. Lee twisted his lips, turning his head away while his gaze remained glued to the undead boy. Inside the closet, there was a small pile of bones.

"Christ...is that…?" Lee said.

"Yeah..." Morgan stuttered. "That's Duane."

Rick looked at the bones. "Oh...how many have you…?"

"Four...all men…a couple 'a dogs. They weren't no good people, no. They were bad people, killing anyone to get what they want. Figured this was...somewhat justice for whatever they might have done to other people."

Morgan crumbled to his knees, staring at his boy who stared back at him with empty bloodlust, his arms flailing towards his father. Morgan broke down into sobs, burying his face into his palms.

"He's my son…!" He said, hiccuping each word. "He'd look at me differently after...like he did before...like he knew me...I just wanted that…! I wanted him to act like he knew who I was..."

"Morgan..." Lee said. "Morgan, you know that's not your son. Your son died...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry that happened, but it did. That's just his body, there's nothing left of your son in there...he's gone."

Morgan soothed his sobbing. He looked back towards Duane. He wiped his cheeks, before springing to his feet and shoving Duane back inside the closet. He closed and locked the door. Rick and Lee scratched their heads. They thought about trying to insist, but decided to leave him be.

"I can't do it. Not now. Not yet. I still...I haven't cleared yet. If I have to put him down...then I might as well go with him."

Rick shook his head. "I don't think that's what's supposed to happen. I think you're supposed to come with us."

Morgan laughed. "After all that? After me trying to blow your head off, stab your heart out, happily ever after together?"

"You couldn't kill me, I couldn't kill you. I'll take that as a sign."

"Look, we found a prison." Lee said. "The fences can keep 'em out."

Morgan turned to Rick. "Is that where your wife died?"

Rick did not grace him with a response, his gaze descending to the floor. Morgan nodded, taking the silence as a yes.

"Just go." Morgan said, his tone sombre, calm and firm. "Don't stop, don't go back. Just get yourself some more time."

Morgan walked back to where he was zip-tied, sitting back down on the floor. Clementine stepped aside as he walked by, not daring to meet his gaze. He didn't look at the little girl. Lee stood by her, while Rick walked towards Morgan, kneeling to his height.

"Look, I can help you. You can come back with us, you can heal—"

"You're taking a lot of guns, Rick." Morgan said. "No, I'm just saying, that all is a lot 'a guns. Why do you need the guns, Rick? 'Cause if you got something good, that just means that there's someone that wants to take it. And that is what is happening, right?"

"We're gonna win." Rick said, making Morgan chuckle. "You can be there. You can help."

"You will be torn apart by teeth or bullets!" Morgan growled, curling his fingers in front of his face. "You and your boy and Lee too! Your people, but not me! Because I am not gonna watch that happen again!"

Morgan reinforced his statement by slicing the air with an arm jerk. He got on his feet, marching towards the gun.

"Man, you take the guns." Morgan said in a stoical tone that was meant to end the conversation.

"You know there's a chance!" Rick said, while Morgan had his back towards him and stared outside through the window. "That's what you can't square! That's what hurts! You know there's a chance!"

Morgan sprang back around. "I don't think you heard a damn word I said!"

"We both started out in the same place. Things went bad for you, things went bad for me. But you're not seeing things right. I don't blame you, what you've lost, what you been through. But you can come back from this, I know you can. You have to. This can't be it. It can't be. You got to be able to come back from this."

There was silence for a while.

"No."

"Morgan, please—"

"No! I have to clear. That's why I didn't die today. That's the sign. I have to, man. I have to."

"What are you going to do out here?" Lee said. "There's nothing here for you, there's no one."

"That's the point. I just have to clear."

Morgan turned to Rick. He forced a weak smile and flapped his arms outwards, before letting them drop against his hips with a thud. His voice was clear, like still water.

"I have to clear."

Lee narrowed his brows. He had no idea of what he meant by that. But maybe there just wasn't any meaning behind it. Or at least a meaning that he could not understand. He glanced around the room, reading the recurrant words one more time.

_CLEAR. CLEAR. CLEAR. DUANE TURNED. CLEAR. CLEAR. CLEAR._

* * *

Tyreese and Glenn squatted behind the nearest checkout counter. Merle, Andrea, Maggie and Daryl crouched down, hidden from their enemies' line of sight by the checkout counters. Merle hissed, recognizing those men. Bruce, along with Wes, Curtis and Sam.

"Maybe next time you'll listen."

Andrea and Maggie glanced at him, before looking towards the four men. Bruce turned to Wes and Curtis.

"You two, check out their vehicles. Sam and I are going to find out who these people are."

Tyreese and Glenn peeped over the counter. Bruce and Sam, a bulky guy with dreadlocks, marched towards them.

"Shit, they're coming right at us. They've seen the trucks, we can't just hide." Tyreese said.

"Can't you bargain with them?" Andrea said to Merle.

"I'm a traitor, you dumb cunt." Merle said. "They'll shoot me the same way they'd shoot y'all."  
Glenn sighed. "Only one way to settle this."

He got on his feet, heading towards the exit.

"Glenn! What're you doing?!" Tyreese said.

"If they come in here, they get Maggie. I won't let that happen."

"Glenn, please! Don't go!" Maggie said.

"Ssh." Tyreese shushed, bringing a finger to his lips. "He knows what he's doing. Andrea, point your rifle at them just in case."

Glenn wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, stepping out into the breeze of the parking lot. He raised his hands at shoulder height. He should have been scared, but asides from the tingling in his midsection, his posture was straight and knees did not buckle. Bruce beamed his assault rifle at him.

"Not one more fucking step!"

"Hey, guys..." Glenn said with a faint convulsion in his voice, sometimes letting out nervous chuckles. "I hope you don't mind if we take some food. We just want supplies. We're not here to hurt anybody. Once we get our stuff we'll be gone."

"What'd you do?! We saw the explosion, that was you, wasn't it? You blew up the depot. Did you really think I wouldn't recognize you from before, you sniveling little coward? You should never have come back here."

His assault rifle palpitated from a single gunshot. The collision of the bullet against Glenn's chest sucked the air from his lungs and propelled him off his feet, scraping him against the asphalt. Maggie stopped breathing. She jumped to her feet, running towards the exit. Tyreese turned his gaze to the woman, grasping her wrist and locking her in place, holding her back despite her squirming.

"Glenn!"

Bruce glanced towards the Walmart, his ears perking up at the sound of a second voice.

"Huh—?"

The barking of a second bullet cut him off. The sting of a hornet pierced his neck. Bruce clutched his gorge, gurgling on the blood that gushed from the hole drilled into his neck. Sam froze in place, staring at the man in front of him that collapsed to the ground, kicking as he fought back against the drainage of his ruptured arteries. Maggie broke loose of the man's grip and ran towards Glenn. Tyreese chased after her, while Andrea ran outside and beamed her rifle at Sam.

"Don't move or you're next!"

Maggie kneeled next to Glenn. He was stretched out on the ground, motionless, a spasm of pain icing his still visage. She ran her shaking hands down her hair. Tyreese stood in front of the grieving woman, his eyes riveted to Sam, who was shellshocked but still armed and with a good line of sight to shoot them.

"Glenn! Oh, God, Glenn!"

"Maggie, stop! Get down!" Tyreese said.

Wes and Curtis backed their spines against the military truck, readying their rifles to pop out and shoot. A aerial whirring reached Wes' ears, making him turn around. He gasped. Curtis stumbled towards him, his eyes rolling up towards the sky while an arrow was sticking out of his forehead, soaked in blood. A gunshot barked nearby, perforating his leg. Wes hollered, falling onto the concrete. He dragged himself away, glancing past his shoulder. Merle towered above him with a pistol in his hand, while Daryl was loading another arrow onto his crossbow. Merle fired a bullet into his skull, splattering the concrete with syrupy brain matter and siphoning any movement from his body.

"Never liked your Shrek-lookin' ass."

The battlefield turned silent. Sam was the last man standing, with his fingers still welded to his shotgun and his eyes stuck on Bruce.

"Don't move! Put the gun down!" Andrea said.

Sam turned towards her. "You killed them! You killed them!"

He raised his shotgun. Andrea yanked back the trigger, drilling his cranium with a single bullet. The shotgun was knocked off his hand and Sam crumbled on the ground. Silence imposed itself back on the scene just as abruptly as it did the first time. Tyreese, Andrea and Daryl softened, turning their gazes towards Maggie. Her chest throbbed with her irregular breaths, as she held Glenn's head close to her face. Daryl sprinted towards her, with his heart pounding in his chest. He dropped onto a knee, holding his crossbow up as he stared down at the corpse of his friend, his breaths turning heavier and his nose cavities growing wet. Merle folded his arms, staring at the scene with no sentiment traversing his soul.

"No...no...no...no…no..." Maggie muttered.

Glenn let out a series of coughs. Daryl released an exhale.

"...can't...can't breathe..."

Maggie let out a chuckle, sniffing and wiping her tears.

"Of course you can't, silly...you're dead, remember? Oh, Glenn, I can't—"

"...no...I really...can't breathe...chest hurts..."

Daryl raised him onto a sitting position, stripping off his dented Kevlar vest. "Let's get this mess off him, he's gotta be injured."

"Dammit, Glenn, you better be okay..." Maggie said.

"...sorry, hon'..." Glenn said. He raised his shirt, stuttering each exhale. His chest had turned violet from the impact. "...agh...it's hard to...breathe...but I'm fine...I think I'm fine..."

"Man, you ain't fine." Daryl said. "You cracked a few ribs, for sure."

"He could have a punctured lung or something." Tyreese said.

"Regardless, we gotta take the supplies and leave. We need to make ourselves scarce right now." Andrea said.

"Help me get him on the truck." Daryl said.

Daryl and Tyreese grabbed Glenn by his extremeties, hauling him onto the rear enclosure of the pickup truck. Maggie climbed in next to him, holding his hand. Merle hurried over to Glenn.

"Gotta say, kid, humongous balls of steel. I'd get you a beer if you'd ever accept it."

* * *

Rick grabbed two duffle bags full of guns, hauling one over his unhurt shoulder. He stood by the doorway of the house, staring at Morgan. He had an M16 dangling off his back, while he dragged away the bodies of the dead walkers that were impaled on the spikes. Lee and Clementine were throwing more bags of weaponry into the trunk of the Hyundai. Rick thought about new arguments to convince Morgan, but found and Michonne walked towards the sheriff, ferrying a crib by the edges.

"Hey. I was just about to go look for you."

"Sorry." Carl said.

"It's alright. You're here now."

Carl looked at the blood stain on his shoulder.

"Oh, it's nothing." Rick looked at Michonne. "Thank you."

Michonne looked at Morgan. "He's okay?"

Rick sighed. "No. He's not."

"Hey!" Carl shouted.

"Carl…"

"Morgan!"

Morgan paused his task, turning towards the boy.

"I had to shoot you. You know I had to, right?" Carl said. Morgan nodded. "I'm sorry."

Morgan marched towards him. Rick stiffened for a brief second, looking at him with a wary gaze.

"Hey, son. Don't ever be sorry."

Carl remained silent, until he just nodded. Morgan gave Rick a last glance, before returning to his..._clearing_. The three of them walked back to the car, while Lee and Clementine went into the backseats. Michonne and Carl dropped the crib. She circled around the car to the passenger seat. Rick stored away the duffel bags, before making sure she was out of earshot and turning to his son.

"How'd it go with her?"

Carl nodded. "I think she might be one of us."

Rick frowned. "What?"

Carl smiled. Michonne was a stranger for the time she had spent in the prison so far, and he had just expected her to be an annoyance to his purpose of retrieving that picture. But she had helped him. She cared about getting that picture for him, and she seemed to understand why he did it. Heck, she understood a little better than his father did sometimes. He raised his gaze at Rick, whose hand was set on his shoulder.

"Everything went okay."

Rick stayed reactionless, before flashing him a smirk.

"Hop in. I'll throw this in the back."

Carl went inside the vehicle. Rick lifted the bassinet into the trunk, shutting it closed. His eyes trailed towards the horizon. He scoped out his former neighborhood, tightening his jaws. _There is nothing left in here. _There was a latent temptation to drive near his house so he could take a look, but he suppressed it. He had the image of his home in his mind, from when it was still full of life. He did not need to see that wrecked to blight.

"See something?"

Rick revolved his head toward Michonne. She stood next to him with her fist leaning against her hip, a faint smirk on her lips.

"I know you see things. People. I do too." Michonne shrugged. "It happens."

Rick nodded, flickering his eyes over her. Maybe there was an ally in her. A place to belong in their family. Maybe the two had something in common. Maybe it was the moment to start rising against the hardships that had numbed him for so long. He could not help flashing her a genuine smile.

"You wanna drive?"

Michonne nodded with a grin. "Yeah."

Rick dropped the keys on her hand, leaning closer to her.

"Good. I see things."

* * *

The Hyundai wobbled softly as it galloped down the lonely roads of Georgia. Lee glanced at the side mirror, looking at Rick. Half of his visage was hidden by the hand that he leaned against, but his narrowed, cold gaze was visible. While it could go unnoticed to an impromptu eye, he knew how to decrypt that look, weighed down by dismay and shining with disappointment even. Lee had learn how to associate each nuance of his frowns to what the sheriff truly felt, and he felt that Rick wanted Morgan to go back with them. Maybe he didn't just want him to come with them, he needed him to.

Michonne slowed the car down to a halt. Rick and Lee straightened, glimpsing outside. Mangled hunks of meat bathed the road in blood, while an orange backpack stood amidst the human remainders. Lee gulped down a shard of glass that formed in his throat. He exited the car, taking the large backpack and tossing it in the trunk. He entered the car once more, closing the door. Michonne resumed the drive. Lee looked at Clementine. Her eyebrows accentuated upwards, but her eyes were emptier of emotion, and her lips sealed shut. She turned her gaze away. Lee sighed, guessing that, for a little girl who hoped to make the world a better place by always making the right choice, the truth was hard to stomach.

"We can't always be the good guys, Clem."

Lee was met with a brief glance from the four people in the car. He sighed, as he enjoyed the peace and tranquility of just being driven back home. The home that always awaited them after each hard journey. His thoughts returned to Morgan one last time. Just another murky mind that was trying to clear itself.


	71. Welcome To The Tombs

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 71 – WELCOME TO THE TOMBS**

* * *

**Guest: ****"Thank you for giving us something that is fantastic to read! I've enjoyed reading this story so much that this my third time reading haha. Can't wait till the next chapter!"**

**Answer: This review fucking made my day. Sincerely, thank you to whoever wrote it. The thing that touched me the most is that you've read this story THREE times. I mean, it makes me smile and it astounds me that this silly fanfic can inspire people so much. I've had so many people say that they look up to this story and that truly makes me happy, especially since I never thought that people would have these big attachments to my silly story xD Thanks once more and all the best!**

**Carl**** Bellic: "[...] Is it weird that I KIND OF ship Lee and Rick in this fanfiction? It's just they have so much chemistry together, kind of like Rick and Daryl, the only difference is I don't ship Rickyl since I don't like Daryl. But the thought of my 2 most favorite characters together just makes me ship them so hard. [...]"**

**Answer: I guess it's normal to ship them? As long as there aren't any buttsex fantasies between the two. It's true that Lee and Rick have a very brotherly bond and that's what I wanted to portray in the ending scene of the last chapter, when I wrote that Lee knew how to decipher each nuance of Rick's frown and so on since they're so close and they have this really thick bond.**

**halp:**** "****can u pls ship boby hill clemntin pls ty 3 n hav carvr sel propan n propn aksesoriz ty yes 3****"**

**Answer: I am very concerned about your mental health. Please, seek help. Through the barrel of a .357 pistol thrust in between your jaws.**

**Vinnie D:**** "****Where's Chuck?****"**

**Answer: Oh, you know, he's probably out there, somewhere, plain chilling while being awesome and being quotable. xD In all seriousness, I suppose you're asking this due to Chuck's absence in the former chapter. I apologize, but you know, this cast isn't exactly getting any smaller! But don't worry, we've not yet seen the last of him.**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: I would just like to say that the next chapters might take a little longer to upload, for the simple reason that I'm going to be mixing up a lot of arcs and it's going to take a while for me to plan out how to interweave so many plotlines. This episode is pretty much on its final arc, and will end around chapter 84, if my outline goes as planned (but it rarely does and I might need to split chapters because of length), so I really want this to be good and I am going to give everything I got to make this a perfect experience. Sorry for rambling and enjoy!**

* * *

_I'm not dead...I'm not in a tomb..._

* * *

Michonne disappeared around the corner. Bruce chased after her, but Gabe halted dead on his tracks, his enraged gaze thawing as he flicked his eyes over the dead girl and the mutilated Philip on the floor. Bruce stopped after reaching the corner of the room, seeing the woman leap through an open window onto an emergency ladder, and vanishing like a ninja that was never there. Bruce growled, banging his fist against the wall. His legs urged him to give chase, but he had to prioritize the half-dead Governor.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Bruce exhausted a pair of steaming breaths. He thought one last time about chasing after the fleeing bitch, but then his mind returned to the Governor. The fury in his visage liquefied, dragging down his lips. He turned around with hesitant footsteps. His lips wrinkled and his entrails pained him with a sharp pique. The Governor was stretched wide open on the ground like a sea-star. His pallid skin glowed from a layer of sweat yet was tarnished by ponds of blood. The crimson liquid masked his visage, one of his eyes closed while the other was resting upon his cheek, with the optic nerve severed and snaking outside of his cranium, the sclera turned bloodshot.

The eye looked alive, with its blue iris and dilated pupil staring into a void. There was a ghost in the place of the Governor's right arm, now diminished to a crude stump like the remains of a felled tree. The bleeding creeks on his shoulder were dammed by duct tape. Bruce glanced at the man's crotch, which dug a blade into his spine. The area between his legs had been rendered flat, and his genitalia rested between his thighs, now turned to useless sacks of flesh.

Gabe petrified in front of his leader. His presence could make anyone sweat bullets and feel belittled by his shadow, as if he was an invincible demon. But now he was in such a vulnerable state that it was as if anyone could stand superior to him, and terminate whatever shred of life still beat within him. _Maybe he's still breathing_. Gabe flickered his eyes towards his chest. _Not moving. _His mind denied that he could be dead, yet his body could not move, not even to check his pulse or his respiration. He glanced to the man's side. His daughter Penny had fallen aswell, with a profound cavity between her eyes, caused by a blade. He bit his lip, imagining the reaction of the Governor to the death of his daughter. If he was still alive. Gabe riveted his eyes on the Governor, but directed his voice towards Bruce.

"What about the girl?"

"Fuck her. She's going into the red zone, she ain't got a chance."

"What about him…? Is he dead...?"

"...no…"

Gabe and Bruce snapped their heads forward, their jaws wilting. They barely perceived his lips moving, but they had clearly heard that dragged, raucous word.

"Fuck! He's alive!" Bruce said.

"Shit, Bruce! The doc and Alice are gone! What the hell are we gonna do!?"

"Fuck! I'm gonna go run downstairs and get Bob."

"Bob?!" Gabe said, spinning his gaze towards Bruce. "That fucking drunk that's always sitting downstairs by the door?! What the hell can he do?!"

"Probably not much, but more than either of us can do!"

Bruce turned around on his heels and rushed out the front door. He headed for the stairs, jumping down three steps at a time, detonating thunder each time he set his feet down. His legs pedaled down the stairwell without thinking as he cursed in mutters. He hopped onto the ground level, jogging to the front glass doors. He shouldered his way to the exterior. Guards ran back and forth on the streets with panic accelerating their footsteps, while storms of bullets rhymed in the background. He ignored the atmosphere whelming the town, and instantly turned his eyes to the side of the building. Bob slumped against the façade, his head bent down towards his stomach that swelled with snores.

"Bob! We need your help! Upstairs, now!"

He grasped the old man by the wrist and wrenched him onto his feet. Bob cracked his eyelids, blinking at Bruce and stumbling over his feet, barely managing to stay up.

"Wha—? Why?!"

"You were an army medic, right?!"

"For about two weeks forty goddamned years ago! I can't do shit."

"Well, you're going to fucking try! Bruce said, sinking his fingers into Bob's shoulder and staring into his bloated eyes. "The Governor's been taking care of you, making sure you're fed and you don't drink yourself to death. And now you're going to return the favor!"

* * *

Bruce pushed Bob into the apartment. Bob glared at the bulky man, growling, before turning his gaze around. He laid eyes on Gabe, who stood in the middle of the room, before shifting his gaze to the fallen man. A torch ignited within his stomach. He balked on the spot, pulling his head back as the sight scarred his brain and forced a gasp through his airways. The alcohol drained from his veins and turned him sober in an instant, as he stared towards the mangled man.

"Holy sh—!"

He curled in two and belched the bister contents of his stomach onto the ground. He hurriedly wiped his lips, before staggering back with wobbly legs and thrusting his spine against the wall. He held his arms out, away from his hips, his head facing the side yet his eyes were glued to the gruesome imagery. He shook his head repeatedly, his lip trembling and his voice quaking.

"I can't...I can't even look at him...I can't do anything…"

Bruce towered in front of the man, who fixated his frightened gaze on the daggers that Bruce's eyes were to him.

"The doc and Alice are gone! If you don't do anything he's going to fucking die! Do you want him to die?"

"I don't..." Bob closed his eyes, gulping and taking a deep breath. "No..."

"Then fucking do something!"

Bob looked back at Philip, cringing against the wall. He shut his gaping mouth, hydrating its interior with his tongue and narrowing his gaze. His face straightened and his fear began to leak from his eyes.

"I'm going to need clean bandages, tape, and some peroxide." Bob hummed. "Then we'll need to get him to the infirmary. I'll do what I can."

* * *

Philip felt his conscience return to him and regain control of his body. He opened a tight slit in his eye. He blinked repeatedly, being blinded by the light bathing the room. His torso and limbs were sore yet cushioned by a mattress. He felt his right arm floating and a tickle between his thighs. He began to get his bearings and his memory returned to him. He remembered that he no longer possessed those body parts, albeit it felt like he still had them, and they were just numb. He recognized the ceiling of the infimary above him. He revolved his head to his side, feeling his vertebrae cracking. His naked chest was covered in bandages, and while he couldn't see it, he felt that the left region of his skull was covered in tissue as well, hiding his empty orbit. Gabe sat by his side, his gaze perking up as he detected his leader moving. Philip croaked, cleaning the phlegm from his throat. Only one thought came to mind.

_I'm not dead...I'm not in a tomb..._

"How long...?" Philip croaked.

"Were you out?" Gabe said. "Almost a week. You were awake a bit here and there, though I don't think you'll remember anything."

"Did you find Doc Stevens?" He said, swallowing his saliva to render his voice less gravelly. "Force him to patch me up?"

"Nope." Gabe rubbed his nape. "Doc's dead. They found his body when they went looking for that bitch and her friends. But his body was right outside the outer fence. He didn't last long."

"Serves that fucker right..." Philip frowned. "So if that fucker's gone, how the fuck ain't I dead?"

"Bob."

"Bob?!" Philip said, spreading his eyelids and attaching his stare to the ceiling. "That's ridiculous. That old drunk couldn't draw a straight line, let alone patch me up. He refused to be the doc's assistant, made that fucking girl do it."

"He didn't have to do much, thank God. Said your arm was sealed good by the fire. When she cut off your, uh...when she nicked your thigh, Bob said it missed a major artery. Your eye could have gotten infected, but didn't. He said she was real careful. He thinks she wanted to leave you alive, as if she had more plans for you."

"Plans for me?!" Philip snorted. "Wait 'til I hear from Martinez. I could fill a fuckin' book with the shit I got planned for her."

"Uh..." Gabe grumbled, raising his eyebrows. "Martinez went with them."

"I fucking know he went with them." Philip rolled his eye, exasperation deforming his tone. "I didn't know the Doc and his slut would go too, but that was my plan. Martinez helps them escape, and then comes back and tells us where that fucking prison is. If I've been out for a week, he should be back here any day now. Then that fucking bitch is mine!"

* * *

Philip squatted near the corpse of his daughter. After getting on his feet and dressed, he had stormed straight for his apartment. He stared down at her, digging his fingernails into his palms. Her raven hair was bundled in a mess and her whitened eyes were directed towards him, but it did not feel like she was looking him in the eyes. Her forehead was mutilated in a mush of blood, caused by a blade. He squeezed his quivering lips, feeling a tear slide down his sole functional eye. He bolted his fists tighter as he released dragged breaths through his flared nostrils. His fingernails pierced into his skin, and the acute pain relieved a tiny parcel of the volcano of anger within him.

There were nothing but thoughts of gore and pain inflicted by him in his mind. He was missing an arm and his left eye, which he adorned with an eyepatch, but that would not hinder him in his revenge. He grabbed a blanket that he had fetched from his bedroom and covered her with it. He stared at the human contours outlined in the tissue, before he glanced at his hands. His palms were profoundly scratched and blood had seeped from the shallow injuries. He wiped the tear off his cheek. He got on his feet and headed for the aquarium room, dropping onto the armchair. He had mopped up the water when he got there and tossed away the fallen heads. He watched the same old spectacle of floating heads, his lips shrinking with a bitter taste. He fastened his grip on the chair arms, but softened it once there was a knock on the doorpost. He turned to the side. Bruce stood by the entrance.

"What is it? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"You said you wanted to know if we found Martinez. We did. He's dead."

Philip sighed. "I think it's time for me to address the people."

* * *

Philip paced around in the middle of the stadium, eyeing his people. There was an absolute silence, along with extended and austere gazes positioned on him. He twisted his lips, knowing what was going on in their minds and that their eyes were riveted on his bandaged stump and his eyepatch. _It's okay. They're stupid and scared. And gullible. _The atmosphere was hefty and nobody dared to make a noise. Philip set his thoughts aside, setting his mind on his mission. Turning those people bloodthirsty.

"I apologize for being unavailable to y'all recently. I apologize fo' not being able to handle the troubled matters that've arisen in our little community. But as y'all can see by lookin' at me..." Philip put his hand against his chest. "I had more pressing matters to deal with. Those terrorists turned out to be more dangerous than I'd deemed before. They did this to me, and they exfiltrated Merle, the traitor! All while killing Shumpert, one of our loyal men who kept this town safe."

Barely anyone knew or cared about Shumpert, but people love thinking that they're kept safe by heroic and patriotic men who would die for them, and that their entire community is a little cozy and blood-bound family.

"I lowered my guard, and they mutilated me, left me for dead, and injured the well-being of this town! They escaped, and along the way, they killed doctor Stevens! They're ruthless, inhuman savages! I feared for Martinez's life, not knowing if they had taken him prisoner or worse. Before we could send out a search party, something was left at the gate overnight..."

Philip reached into a box by his feet, removing a severed head from within. He held it out towards the spectators, causing a rhythm of gasps.

"This!"

Philip jerked the head around in all directions, provoking the same reaction in the townsfolk that he beamed the head at. The population recognized the face with the bandana that had a bullethole in its forehead. Martinez. Philip waved the head around, whose jaws and eyelids fluttered open and shut with the motions. A few mothers hid the eyes of their children. Philip hid his smile beneath a mask lined with shock and anger. He was getting the reaction that he wanted out of them. _F__ear. _He cleared his throat, readying to escalate his voice into yells.

"I knew none of you would want to see this, and I'm sorry for shockin' you. I just wanna make y'all aware of the people we dealin' with! Monsters! These savages know where we live! They know what we have! They know our strengths and weaknesses! I say we strike at them before they got a chance to come at us!"

Now with the gasps of dread and shock quieted down, grumbles of agreement began to boil amidst the townspeople before the population was on their feet, motioning their fists overhead and hailing their leader. Philip beamed the severed head towards his people as he spoke, fueling their wrath with that beacon of violence and his roars.

"I refuse to stand down and allow them to destroy us! After everything we've lost! Not after everything we've sacrificed! We've worked too hard to build what we have here! And I'll be goddamned if I let anyone take it from me!"

"_Damn right!_"

"_Fuck yeah!_"

"_We gotta kill 'em all!_"

Philip fell into silence, absorbing the clamr of his citizens. This time, he could not avoid a smirk. Like before, he had obtained the emotion that he wanted from them. _F__ury. _The formula was so easy to master and it worked every time. When people wanted revenge, they needed someone to rally behind, and it always just took a few determined words to get them to do his bidding.

"I'm glad you feel the same way." Philip spoke up, silencing the crowd. "First we need to find them. Their prison is near Nunez, but we don't know where it is exactly. If someone has any familiarity with this area, please let us know. It might be hard findin' 'em, but we will, and they will be punished. And in order to do that, we'll also need to start training everyone to fight! Starting today, our security staff will start takin' account 'a anyone who's older than eighteen and we'll train everyone to combat! We will punish them!"

* * *

Philip stood in the arena, which was now vacant. It was just him, the breeze and five biters that were chained to the railing separating the bleachers from the fighting field. Philip latched his fingers onto his handgun, staring down the aiming notch. _At least she didn't take out my right eye. _He got used to the weight of the weapon, which felt heavier while holding it with just one hand, not to mention that he only had his left hand. He tried to steady his aim, but the lack of a strong grip made the gun quiver.

He growled, wishing that he had worked on his ambidexterity with a gun before. He fired the pistol. His left arm retracted from the blast. The bullet struck the central biter in the collarbone, throwing it a step back before it lunged at Philip once more, until it was held back by the chain. He gave up on his shooting practice and turned to Gabe and Bruce. _Two fucking days and they still ain't found that fucking prison._

"What the fuck is taking so long?!" Philip said.

"It ain't something we can do overnight, boss." Gabe said. "There's only so many people we can send off searching."

"Closest thing we got to information was some guy who remembered a prison on McAlister Lane." Bruce said. "But that's a long fucking road to search, and the guy isn't even sure it's in that road."

"We're real sorry, sir. We're trying as hard as we can. We got multiple teams going out everyday, just mapping the area. We're learning a lot about the area, but we just can't find the damned prison."

Philip reeled back his lips, revealing his tightened teeth. He turned back to the biters. He whipped his arm up towards the same biter, firing off another round. The projectile penetrated its shoulder, spitting splinters of flesh into the air. Philip jolted the pistol in the air.

"Fuck! Why the hell did that bitch have to cut off my right arm?! I'm almost fucking useless with a gun now!"

* * *

Philip propped his hands against his sink, staring at his mirror. He listened to the silence in his apartment and the electric breaths exiting his nostrils. He missed hearing his daughter growling at him, demanding more flesh to satiate her insatiable famine. A tumor in his chest urged him to trash everything and kill everyone. But he kept that cumbersome rage latent, even though he had lost his daughter twice. He remembered when she first turned, and he was capable of sacrificing anything to just see that spark of warmth and humanity in her eyes once more, to see the spark that lit up whenever she recognized him. And now, it was the same all over again. He wanted to just hear her snarl with crude affection towards him one more time, her little hands reaching out for a meal.

He clutched the sink until his fingers turned white. _Patience. _He had to remain level-headed. He had his citizens out there seeking the people he loathed and he had his soldiers militarizing every man and woman in that town. They would find that prison soon. And then, he would get his chance to unleash his unholy fury. He languished for that moment, which was the only thing that still kept him rational and breathing.

He took off his eyepatch. His bathroom lacked a window and was sunken in darkness. He reached for a pack of matches, lighting one. The glow from its tip illuminated the room in a ghostly tangerine light, which he neared to his empty orbit. His eyelids were shut closed, without the eyeball to brace them open. He pulled his upper eyelid up with his stump. The muscles in his cranium had been pushed forward, walling the gap that was left by his missing eye. His solar plexus winced at the sight, making him swallow his saliva.

He put his eyepatch back on. He blew the match out and walked back into the living room. He reached into his pocket, taking out a folded photograph. He unfolded the paper and took a long look at the picture. His lively and simpering visage shined through the lens, while he had his arm wrapped around a blonde woman whose lips were lined with joy, and between the two, there was a little girl with raven hair, tucked within their warm embrace. He lit another match and made the flame hover beneath the paper, which blackened from the fire. His chest pained him with a mix of numbness and rage that was devouring him. The flame spread onto the photograph which dispelled in ashes.

There was a knock on the door. Philip tossed the match and the burnt remains of the photo into a metal bin He opened the door, greeting Gabe with a sneer.

"Didn't I say I wasn't to be disturbed?!"

"Sorry, boss." Gabe said, slightly extending his eyelids. "Some shit's going down. Was an explosion, we think at the National Guard Station. Huge cloud of smoke going into the air. Bruce took some guys to investigate, they were gone a few minutes and we've heard gunfire nearby."

"Nearby?! Then just get in a car and—fuck!"

Philip marched out of the apartment, brushing past Gabe and waving his arm towards the staircase.

"Follow me!"

* * *

Gabe turned the steering wheel of the military truck, speeding into the parking lot of the nearby Walmart. Philip stared right ahead through the windshield, holding onto the dashboard as his chest tottered with the oscillations of the vehicle. He narrowed his gaze. Four silhouettes lazed on the ground, in the distance, situated next to a military truck identical to theirs. Gabe slowed the truck to a brake. Philip rushed out of the cab, stepping out onto the parking lot. He dilated his eyelids, his jaw hanging slightly.

"Fuck!" He gasped.

Bruce was laying on the concrete, his limbs frozen in place while blood pooled beneath his neck. The three other men were limp as well, with blood shedding from gunshot wounds in their skulls. Two soldiers hopped from the back of their truck, scanning the perimeter for any enemies with their rifles brandished. Philip and Gabe stood next to Bruce, their eyebrows wrinkled in a frown.

"Jesus..." Gabe said."

"His head is still intact." Philip said. "He'll probably be turning soon. We can't let that happen to them. We never let ours turn."

Bruce groaned. Philip furrowed his forehead, bending down towards the bald man. His eyes cracked open, revealing glassy sclera, and his lips barely articulated any words.

"...bald fuck...they came back...they..."

The sentence was punctuated with a final breath, before Bruce locked his gaze on the sky and his face neutralizing. Philip squatted down next to the man, shaking him by the shoulder.

"Bruce! Bruce!"

Philip mixed a sigh with a growl and rose to his feet. He stopped for a moment, closing his eyes and sipping in a breath. He sprang towards Gabe, snatching the handgun from his holster. He fired a bullet into Bruce's forehead, splattering brain matter into the ground beneath his head, filling the clefts in the asphalt with his blood. Gabe withdrew his head, his hands hovering at waist height. Philip slowly turned his gaze towards Gabe, pressing his eyebrows down on his glare and spraining his lips.

"They were just here!" Philip muttered between teeth. "Find their fucking tracks, find their fucking prison, find it now!"

* * *

Gabe stretched out on the grass, with Rudy beside him. Rudy held a pair of binoculars towards the location that they had been searching for so desperately. The prison. Gabe felt his spine tingle as he imagined how the Governor would react to their flawless tracking work. Just like him, he knew that Philip was eager to avenge Bruce and his people. Gabe stared towards the horizon, seeing miniature figurines amble around within the fences. There were four people sliding crowbars and rods through the outer fence, killing the biters that banged on their walls. In the main yard, there was a crew unloading a truck full of supplies.

"What are they doing there?" Gabe said.

"Nothing much." Rudy said. "Just taking out biters. They're unloading a truck. Gas and crates—wait a minute, that truck's just like ours!"

"Fucking bastards. Must've gotten the truck from the station."

"Assholes. And—holy shit, there's Merle!"

"Really?!"

"Yeah! If only I could get a shot between his eyes right here and now..."

"You know that's a bad idea." Gabe said, getting on his feet. "C'mon, while they're distracted. Let's get back to the town and tell the Governor we found them. I don't want to be stuck outside when it gets dark."

* * *

Philip leaned against the railing of the stadium walkway. He oversaw his guards instructing a pack of twenty people how to shoot, demonstrating how to handle rifles and handguns. Their lessons were often paused by one of the trainees shooting at the walkers that were chained to the bleachers. He stared down at them, while Gabe debriefed him on what he had found.

"They've got the fences. They take out the biters on the fences. Thing is, they have quite some numbers. But if we train everyone who is fit to fight in the town, we might be at even odds. They can't have many weapons, not after what we took from that guard station. We watched them for hours, man. We hit them tomorrow and they go down like chumps. They'd barely put up a fight."

Philip remained in silence. Knowing the location of the prison did not bring a smile to his face, but it pumped excitement into his veins. He desired to wipe out that scum from the face of the earth. However once his rational side returned to him once more, that idea was flushed away from his system. His plan was to obliterate them with one swift and powerful blow. Yet he had thought it over several times in his head while Gabe monologued, and then plans chaged.

"No. We wait."

Gabe clenched his fists, his cheeks turning red. He had always been obedient to whatever the Governor said, but this time, he did not hold back his complaints.

"Goddammit, Governor! After what they did to Bruce?! We need to take them down now!"

Philip didn't yield at his shouts. He remained calm and shot a glower towards him, his upper lip drawn back.

"Excuse me?"

Gabe withdrew his head, the rageful electricity seeping away from his eyes. The blush melted off his cheeks and he gulped his saliva, standing straight as Philip's glare stabbed him.

"After they escaped, their guard was up." Philip growled between teeth. "Probably for weeks. After Martinez betrayed them and they killed him, their guard was up again. Still, nothing from us. Now they've raided our supplies, killed some of our men. They've got to be expecting us to follow them back. We wait. Three more weeks, maybe four. That way they don't expect it. They relax, convince themselves they're safe. That we gave up. That's when we strike. And if you wanna be along for the ride and not rotting pieces 'a biter food, you'll shut y'er damn mouth and get the fuck outta my sight!"

A gunshot from a shooting trainee punctuated his sentence. Philip looked back towards the horizon.

"Now."

Gabe hurriedly walked away, forgetting about everything else and simply thanking that he hadn't lost his life in that moment of indiscipline and defiance. Philip dissociated his mind from the real world, thinking about the prison in his mind. It was almost too good to be true. It was tempting to go there and raze that fucking place to the ground. _Patience. The moment w__ill __come. _

"Governor?_"_

Philip turned towards the male voice that called to him. Rudy was climbing up the stairs, heading towards him.

"What is it, Rudy?" Philip sighed the words.

"Jameson and Smitty just reported back. They said that while they were out there scoutin', they came across some people."

"Who?"

"Group of about twenty, camped out in the woods in trailers. Mostly women and kids, but also a few men. They were well-armed. They had these trenches dug around their camp as traps and Smitty fell inside one of them."

"So? What'd they do?"

"They helped Smitty climb out and Jameson says he told them about Woodbury. They asked if they could join us. Also, I think you might want t'know...they had a tank."

Philip raised his eyebrows, straightening as his interest in that group peaked. "Did they meet their leader? Who's in charge in there?"

"A guy called Pete. Down-to-earth, doesn't seem to be a roguish guy."

"He got any right-hand men?"

"Two, I guess. His brother Mitch and this idiot who wouldn't stop wisecrackin'. Name was Nate, I believe."

"Tell me where their group is."

"About ten miles from here. You think it's wise to bring them?"

Philip rubbed his neck, his eyes focusing on a void. "We need manpower if we're gon' take down the folks at that prison. Couple extra hands with a couple extra guns could go a long way. And the tank...if it's workin' an' loaded, we need it. Think they'll cooperate with us?"

"They said they wanted to join us. Smitty specified they seemed eager to find someplace safe."

Philip nodded. "Get Jameson and Smitty. Tell Gabe to meet me at the entrance with a car. We gonna go meet these folks."

* * *

Gabe drove the truck slowly down a dirt road in the midst of the woods, with Philip by his side. In normal circumstances, he wouldn't have thought of taking more people into his town unless the biters needed feeding, but he needed men for his militia. And he wanted that fucking tank. Meeting those people face-to-face would teach him the best approach to turning their leader's mind malleable so it could be molded to his will. If they were unwilling to be on their side, then they were against them, and they could just gun them down and take their supplies. Smitty, Jameson and Rudy were on the back of the truck, with their assault rifles ready in case a tussle ensued.

The forest rived into a clearing in the distance, landmarked by seven trailers. Philip set his posture upright. There were people ambling around in the trailer park – a few women strung wet clothes on washing lines hung between the campers, short groups of friends chatted around plastic tables. but Philip quickly forgot about all those mundane details. A tank stood with might in the center of the encampment, eclipsing the rest of the banal landscape. Gabe slowed the vehicle to a stop, as the gazes of the inhabitants sprang towards the truck. Three men walked up to their vehicle. Philip exited the truck, scrutinizing the trio and considering them to be the ringleaders.

The man in the middle was certainly Pete. He walked with confidence, yet if he was truly the leader, then he didn't look the part. He was young, mid-twenties as his planate and stubbly face indicated, which meant that he lacked experience. His dark eyes were gentle and lacked authority, opposite to the instant intimidation that a leader must emit, the tense vibe that keeps people on their toes and impedes them from even thinking of fucking with the alpha. _He seems easy to tame. _His right-hand men seemed like the tougher ones to control.

Mitch, following his brother at the heel, was a square-jawed boilerplate straight out of the American Army. Fingerless gloves, camo hat and cargo pants with an equal pattern, with one hand propped against his hip while the other held the M4 that was strapped to his chest. _A soldier. _He bore a shaved head, practical despite bringing out his comically large, turned-up nose. But he was a soldier, and he was meant to be efficient and not pretty. His crinkled visage was a mask of testerone, the one that gave the sign that he would not kneel easily to a man that he didn't want to obey, but if he was a soldier, then he was used to taking orders.

And then there was Nate, standing a few steps away from the two brothers. His grating beard was lined in a chunky smile and his greasy hair was held down by a baseball cap. He didn't carry himself with a stiff posture like Pete and Mitch. _Not a soldier. _There was a darkened scar on his palm. Philip flashed them a simper as Gabe and the three other soldiers followed their leader closely. Philip glanced towards the other inhabitants of the camp. He examined the men first. A kid barely out of his late teens with dark skin and a glare in his eyes, along with an older guy whose skull was camouflaged by a blond beard, a mullet and a pair of glasses. Philip barely glimpsed at the women, not taking an interest, yet he could not help his eyes locking on one.

She had been beaten up by the world, with scars on her chin, a bruise on her cheek and a hemorrhaged eye. Yet her countryside beauty surfaced beneath the abuse, through her blond ponytail, her centaurea eyes and her tanned skin, and her head that was defiantly tilted and the natural curves on her hips. She seemed down-to-earth, with a fierce personality. A seven-year-old girl hid behind her legs, having taken her mother's physical traits. In a fleeting moment, the woman met his gaze.

"We brought him back here, like we said we would." Smitty said.

Philip sprang his eyes back towards Pete. He readjusted his smile.

"So...you're the Governor?" Pete said.

"Wear the title with a smile. Some nicknames stick around, whether ya like it or not." Philip said.

"The hell happened to you?" Nate said, flicking his eyes towards his stump and his eyepatch. "Looks like you left God's workshop a lil' early."

Philip wrung his lips at the remark, briefly glaring at him. It looked it like he was going to be the tongue-in-cheek, snappy one, and surely the one that got under his skin the most. He took a mental note to get rid of Nate if he ever got the chance, probably as a meal to his biters that worked so hard to entertain his townspeople.

"Well, y'know, not everybody out there wants the best for ya." Philip turned back to Pete. "How 'bout we get to the chase?"

Mitch smiled, beaming a finger towards one of the campers. "Straight to the meat, then. We can talk inside."

* * *

Philip sat across Pete and Mitch inside the former's trailer. Gabe stood by his leader with his arms folded, while Nate stood in a similar stance next to the two soldiers. The window was cracked open, but the stench of dust clouds persisted within the camper, rendered visible by the straws of light coming from outside. Philip glanced outside, getting a glimpse of the blonde woman. She was disinfecting the wounded hand of a teenager, accompanied by her entourage. Her name was April, as he had heard it mentioned as he strolled towards the trailer. There was nurturing in her touch and a smile as she tended to the injured girl. Philip forced himself to focus back on Pete.

"You've got a nice camp here. How many people?"

"About thirty." Nate said. "But 'nice' is an overstatement for shithole."

"We're doing okay, but we get a buncha' roamers." Pete said. "Started digging trenches around the camp, but that don't work too well and it's slow. We were really excited to hear that someone out there has this figured out."

"We have a settlement a few miles away from here. A small town like old, fenced off against the biters. It's safe. We got nearly forty people but we got firepower and enough food to pass around."

"And what's the catch for such a, uh...pleasant sojourn?" Nate said.

"As long as ya ain't a detriment to our cozy town, you're welcome." Philip said. "We got simple rules. I'm in charge, and no dead weight."

Pete grinned. "Seems like a deal, then. But I don't think that truck you got outside is going to fit everyone in it."

"I'll send one of my men to bring another vehicle."

"But what about supplies? Will you be able to feed everyone?"

"Rationing will get tighter, but we can handle it. Plus, if you can pull your weight..."

"Well, if we're waiting for a ride to come, we're just gonna twiddle our thumbs while we wait?" Nate said.

"We had scheduled for a supply run today." Mitch said, turning to Philip. "If it, uh, pleases the Governor, you can stay back and get acquainted with folks while we head out and see if we can scrounge anythin' 'fore leaving. Or tag along if you wanna, see how we do things."

Philip smiled. "I've always been a man who can get his hands dirty. I'll tell my man Rudy to go back and fetch another truck, then we'll head out."

* * *

April stared through the window of the trailer where the men were discussing, trying to figure what they were saying through their facial expressions. She mainly focused on that man with the eyepatch, wanting to analyze what kind of man he was, considering that he was a stranger to them. It was obvious that he was the head of his group, his march sturdy and his narrowed gaze concentrated, level-headed with a determined idea of what he was doing, yet somewhat unapprochable. However his eyes – or maybe eye, she should say – did soften when they landed upon her, yet that cordial spark of a glance rapidly extinguished when he and Pete began talking, his visage stiffening once more with a welcoming, perhaps forced smile.

She glimpsed at the girl she was tending. She sat on top of a plastic table while April rubbed wet cotton on her hand. The girl with brown hair at jaw-height fixated a grumpy glare on her, and April replied with a smile, more out of teasing than anything else. Becca always had that attitude, maybe out of teenaged hormones or just natural personality, but after a while, it was either getting annoyed by her all the time or rolling along with it.

"It's just a damned scratch." Becca said.

"I know, I know. It's your sister that put me up to this." April said.

"She worries too much. And you know it."

"Hmm. It's not my call to decide whether she does or not."

"I freaking tripped over, that's all."

"Well, next time, tie y'er shoe laces."

April grinned and Becca rolled her eyes. April smiled to herself, wondering if Meghan would ever grow up to be so snarky and irritable. She guessed that Becca would eventually lose the attitude, considering how her sister Shel was such a zen and chill person compared to her. She lifted her eyes, glancing at her daughter. She was playing cards with her granddad, whose arthritic fingers slowly posited a card on the table when it was his turn. April examined her father's appearance and it weighed down her visage. His corrugated face and his cracked lips were wrinkled with pain. The oxygen tank that he relied on stood next to him like a loyal dog, the tube snaking up his body and inserted in his nostrils. She knew that the old man was on a timer, but she couldn't tell herself that. Yet it often kept her awake at night, but it also reminded her to appreciate each moment with him.

She smiled at him. The old man tried to convert his expression into a simper, but a wheezing, painful exhale hindered him. Her heart constrained as she imagined the aches and frustration of being bound to such a disease, not being able to take a single step without help. April looked at the others who were discussing around the table. Shel, Wyatt and Russell. Further away, her sister Tara was flirting with Alisha, both of them sitting against the latter's camper. April smiled. She always found it funny that her crazy broad of a sister liked chicks. When the two went out together on the street before the turn, she would joke around with April by commenting on the butts of girls that walked by.

"You in the Marines or something?" Tara said.

"Army. In the reserves." Alisha said.

Tara glanced at the assault rifle that rested next to her.

"An M4, huh?"

The curly-haired woman frowned. "You don't approve?"

"I mean, don't get me wrong, an M4 is great for close combat, but as a field weapon? All that dirt and dust?" Tara tightened her lips, shaking her head. "No, thanks. I've never really been into big guns anyway. I'm more of a Smith &amp; Wesson gal. Less fuss, y'know?"

Alisha stared at her with a faint smile. "You always this full of shit?"

Tara kept her grin inert. "Yes, I am."

April chuckled. Well, at least Tara had someone. The cold sheets were always a bother for her, and she couldn't remember the last time she had a proper man to keep her warm. She glanced back towards the trailer ahead of her. That Governor guy did look handsome, once her sore eyes got used to that eyepatch and the lack of an eye. Wyatt sighed, rubbing his long beard and looking towards Pete's trailer.

"Do you think we've slept in RV's for the last time?" Wyatt said.

"That guy better take us in." April said. "I'd give away my left tit for a piece of toilet paper."

Shel grinned, brushing her fringe off her forehead. "Well, it's not really worth give away all of that."

"They sure got firepower." Russell said, looking at the three soldiers that roamed around the military truck. "We don't even know these people. Hmm. I hope Pete's makin' the right choice in there."

* * *

Philip tapped the handgun on his holster and strolled down a dirt path. Pete had his backpack dangling off his shoulders and an opened map in his hands, while Mitch held his assault rifle, the spitter of gunpowder that would save them in case of a roamer attack. Nate marched alongside them, simply keeping a Glock 17 and a knife tucked in the back of his trousers. Philip overlooked the pond that stretched out next to them, which was a green-tainted mirror that reflected an inversed frame of the trees around them.

"How's the fishing?" Philip asked.

"There ain't any. Pond's dead." Pete said.

"As a doornail." Nate said. "We still got rabbits, skunks, some possum out here. You better watch your ass, One Eye."

Nate chuckled with his yellowed teeth showing, bumping his shoulder against Philip's. Philip sneered at the joke and the putrid breath that reached his nostrils. Nate was definitely the one that would go first if he got the chance. Mitch grinned as he looked past his shouder.

"Already bustin' the Gov's balls?" Mitch said, before neutralizing his smirk and turning to Pete. "You sure we're headed in the right direction?"

Pete nodded, his eyes flickering back and forth between the map and their twelve-o'clock.

"Huh-uh. If David's map is right."

"We should have dragged his ass out here to make sure."

"And drag that old coot's air-tank along too? Heh, no, thanks." Nate said.

"Hope this is worth it." Mitch said.

"There oughta be a cabin around here." Pete said. "Might have stuff in there that we could use."

"A cabin? You think we're just gonna find Christmas stockings stuffed to the top with canned beans?" Nate said.

"Look, we've swept these regions dry." Pete said. "We gotta go over the smaller places we've overlooked. Accordin' to this, we still ain't looked in this cabin, and a local market further away. It's either this or that old folk's home by the road."

Philip kept a mental note of everything they said, memorizing any information he deemed useful. Places with supplies, how he could exploit the relationship between those three men for his personal gain, flaws in their characters or any disagreements between them he could take advantage of. He remained silent on a permanent basis, letting them talk while he keenly observed them and listened to them. His eyes rolled through their surroundings, catching something dark slumped against a tree.

He whipped out his pistol and marched towards what appeared to be a dead body of a man. The man was slumped against a tree and dressed in military clothing. He was missing his head, leaving a blackened stump on his neck that resembled singed chorizo. The lack of blood splashed everywhere indicated that he had been dragged there, and not killed on spot. Mitch spun towards Philip, who was walking away from trajectory.

"Hey, One Eye. What'cha doin'?"

Philip glanced at him only briefly, before turning back towards his focal point. He marched towards the cadaver, the three men following behind him. Philip's expression did not budge as he studied the corpse. Mitch and Pete frowned, narrowing their eyebrows. Nate released an exhale through his nose, stretching out the left corner of his lips. There was a wooden tablet hanging from the dead man's neck, with a word carved into it. _LIAR._

"What the hell is this?" Pete said.

"Somebody pissed someone off." Mitch said.

"Who gives a shit?" Nate shrugged. "That guy's got nothing to worry about anymore. Let's go."

Nate jerked his head towards their intended direction, recommencing their march with Pete and Mitch. Philip stared at the decapitated corpse and the word on the tablet for a few seconds, before joining the others. The men he was silently canvassing did not speak in the next minutes, until they reached their location. They jaunted into a clearing where a cabin stood in the distance, atop a short slope. Their footsteps halted and their eyes converged to the same spot. Another decapitated corpse was laying on a stretcher on the front yard, with soldier clothes as well yet a different word was carved into the tablet laying on his chest. _RAPIST._

"Rapist, huh?" Nate chuckled. "Looks like that thinking with his dick got this guy killed."

"That's the kind of situation I'd see you ending up in." Mitch snickered.

Pete glared at the two of them. "How can you fucking laugh at that? That's sick."

"It's 'cause of Nate's influence. He's a pretty sick guy." Mitch said.

"Hey, he's dead." Nate said, extending his hands outwards. "Nothing'll change that. Might as well not be grim about it."

"Whatever. Let's keep goin'."

Nate proceeded towards the porch, with the two brothers following behind. Philip lagged behind at the end of their convoy. Keeping an eye on them at all times was vital. The quartet climbed onto the front porch and they found yet another corpse. The same thing, but this guy still had his head, yet there was a bullethole beneath his jaw and a splatter of blood in the wall behind him, along with a rifle by his legs. The tablet around his neck read a different word. _MURDERER._

"Took himself out." Mitch said.

"No shit." Nate said, grabbing the rifle and slinging it on his back.

"You think he's the one who eighty-six'ed those military guys?" Pete said.

"He still has his noggin." Nate said.

"Most of it, anyway." Mitch said.

Philip scrutinized the corpse. There was a photograph on the man's lap, unlike the others. Philip bent down and picked up the picture. The man's lively and simpering visage shined through the lens, while he had his arm wrapped around a dark-haired woman whose lips were lined with joy, and between the two, there was a little girl with raven hair, tucked within their warm embrace.

"Let's see if he left a housewarming gift basket inside." Nate said.

Philip kept his gaze riveted on the photograph. Nate opened the front door of the cabin, beaming a flashlight inside. Mitch and Pete stood with bent knees behind him, their guns at the ready. The windows were boarded shut so there was nothing but obscurity within, aside from a few straws piercing the thin gaps between the boards. The living room and the kitchen were a mess, with junk and emptied cans of food strewn everywhere. Nate whistled and took out his knife, tapping its hilt against the doorpost. There were a few uncoordinated bumps inside the cabin, but no roamers came out.

"You hear that? Got one in there." Nate whispered. "Must be stuck if it ain't coming out."

"We going in?" Pete asked.

"You want us to wait 'till you're finished pissin' your panties?" Mitch said.

"No, I'm—"

"Cut the chatter." Nate said, turning to Philip. "Hey, let's go."

Nate stepped inside with his knife and his flaslight raised, his nostrils assaulted by musty oxygen. Philip entered after him, holding out his handgun at waist height. Nate headed for the kitchen and pulled out drawers and cupboards, peering inside with fast peeps. The bumps continued thumping somewhere around the house. Philip headed towards the hallway at the end of the room. He glanced towards both of his flanks, seeing a bedroom at each end of the hall.

The bumps were coming from the bedroom on his right. He tiptoed towards it in slow footfalls, his grip on the pistol loose yet sturdy, his hearing peaking with the latent adrenaline. The two brothers raised their guns behind the one-eyed man. Pete paced his breathing and the carotid pulse on his neck drummed harder while Mitch followed at his heel. Pete listened to the thumps while he looked around towards the walls, as if he thought that the roamers were behind the wood.

"It's close!" Pete said.

"Shut up!" Philip said.

The three men stepped into the bedroom, sunken in penumbra. The bumps were closer, seemingly just next to their ears. Time slowed down and their muscles tensed. The bumps stopped. They heard a door creak open and floorboards cry loudly. Pete felt his blood turn to ice, his respiration halting for what felt like an eternity.

"It's out!"

"Shut up!" Philip said.

Cold fingers nipped Pete's shoulder. He let out a scream and sprang around, a second hand grasping his shirt and shoving him to the ground, making him drop his flashlight. Philip and Mitch turned around. A woman sat atop his stomach and snapped her teeth at him, while Pete held the roamer's wrists away with his hands.

"Agh! Get it off!"

Philip rushed to his side. He yanked the biter off of him. Pete crawled away with kicks the moment that he was free, his chest bouncing up and down rapidly. Philip grabbed his pistol by the barrel and slammed the handle on the forehead of the downed biter. Mitch and Pete watched him cave its cranium into a pulp through the flashlight beam. Philip held his arm high, panting. The biter was limp, a crevasse scarring the center of its forehead. Pete reached for his flashlight, but his shaky hand pushed it away. The beam illuminated two severed heads in the corner, their eyes bleached as they battered their teeth that were just an inch away from Pete's knee. Pete fell back on his ass.

"Jesus!"

"Pete!" Mitch shouted.

Mitch kicked the heads further away from him with the tip of his boot. Pete jumped back while on his rear end, before scurrying to his feet. The three men remained idle as they waited for the adrenaline to dissipate, staring at those biting heads. Next to them, there was the corpse of a young boy, no older than six, his back turned towards them as flies flew in loops above his skull. Nate ran down the hallway towards them, stopping by the door and glancing at the roamer with a caved forehead and the two severed heads. He let out a chuckle, looking at the two brothers.

"I leave you alone for a minute and you get your dicks tangled in a bundle." He jostled his head towards the other bedroom. "C'mere, I found some shit."

* * *

Flames crisped in the fireplace of the living room, brightening the dark cabin. The cabin was old and hadn't been used in a while, visible due to the chilly temperature in it. Philip lolled on an armchair next to the fire. He had his leg crossed over the other one, and he let his trains of thoughts flow as he stared at the family portrait he had recuperated from the corpse earlier. There was a lot of work to do in order to get Woodbury back in order and prepare for the distant fray, but he was glad to get a moment to relax and let his muscles untense, and allow himself to lower his guard. A rare opportunity that would not repeat itself so soon.

Mitch and Nate walked into the living room, both of them carrying a cardbox brimming with food and supplies. They dropped the boxes next to the sofa, their fingers sliding amidst the contents. Pete walked in after them, with a book opened in his hand and his eyes trapped in his reading.

"This guy had some good stuff." Mitch said. "Maybe you wanna take back that shit you said, Nate?"

"I'll admit, this was a good find." Nate said, picking up a can of tomatoes. "Canned food. Plenty of it."

Mitch fished a six-pack of beer from his box, rattling the cans and stretching his lips out in a circle.

"Ooh." He purred. "We got beer."

He gave a beer can to Nate, before throwing one at Philip, which fell on his lap, and tossing another one at Pete who caught it midair. Philip toyed with the can in his hand, refraining from drinking it since he wanted to keep his senses keen and he was more of a whiskey man. Pete cracked the can open. Foam spewed from it, sprinkling onto his shirt and his book. He quickly glued his lips to the can opening, sucking in as much beer mousse as he could. The foam dripped onto the floorboards with _shlops. _

Mitch and Nate cackled, opening their own cans and sipping from them, while Philip just drew a weak smile. Pete sketched a wide grin, keeping his lips shut since he had a mouth full of beer. He shook the wet pages of his book, before swallowing the accumulated alcohol in his mouth. His smirk began to vanish and his friends' laugh devolved into silence.

"Man, what the hell happened here?" Pete said. "I mean, what the hell was going on in this cabin? Was he storing those roamers?"

"There was a boy and an old hag in that bedroom." Nate said, dropping on the couch. "They must've been his kid and his sagging booty call."

"N'aw, they were roamers. What about those heads?"

"Belonged to the guys who did the wrong thing to wrong man." Mitch said.

"Probably best not to think too much about it." Philip said.

"Better listen to One Eye, Pete." Mitch said, looking at Philip and flashing his finger towards him. "I can never tell if he's winking or blinking. But you know how to regulate, don't ya?"

Philip lowered his head with a fleeting smile, and stayed silent. Pete sat on the couch. Nate turned towards the one-eyed man.

"Man, you always like this? Ice in the veins, on some silent wanderer shit?" Nate said, looking at his eyepatch and his stump. "Come to think of it, how the hell you end up like that? You were like that before the turn?"

"No. I wasn't like this before things changed." Philip paused for an instant. He did not give a shit about getting to know those men, but knowing more about them could help him. And he wanted to know more about Mitch, since it seemed like he was the one who owned that tank. "And you, fellas? Who were you before things changed?"

"I was, uh, I was an ice cream truck driver." Mitch said.

Pete snorted but kept his lips straight, as if he had just told a bad joke. Mitch glanced at him, the corner of his lips raising a bit, before he turned back towards Philip.

"'Till I upgraded my life and I became a tank operator for the U.S. Army. Hoo-ah."

"Hoo-ah." Pete replied with little enthusiasm.

"Then when everything went tits up, I got the hell outta there and took my ride with me. End of the world don't mean shit..." Mitch raised his beer can, as if he was saying _Amen_ at the end of a prayer. "...when you got a tank."

"I was Army, too." Pete said. "Stationed out at Fort Benning. Stayed for a while 'fore it all started."

"That's my Pete. Too loyal to bounce." Mitch said, looking at Nate. "Y'know, you ain't never told us what you did before, Nate."

Nate straightened on the couch, perching against his knees and staring towards the beer can that he played with in his hands. He cleared his throat, a spasm of anguish twisting his visage.

"I don't like talking about it." He deadpanned, his tone drained of any humor.

"C'mon, don't pussy out. Tell us."

Nate released a heavy sigh. "Alright, here goes."

He eyed Pete and Mitch, who were returning his gaze. He glanced at Philip. He was staring towards the fire, abstracted from the story he was telling. He held back a smile, before he turned towards the two brothers, their bodies static as they awaited the reveal.

"I was in the FBI."

Mitch snorted, loosening up and sipping from his beer can.

"Of course you were. And I was Nixon's handjob assistant."

"You know I goof around a lot, guys, but this time I'm not kidding." Nate said, his voice lowering in pitch. "Rough job. Really gets into your head. Seeing the shit we see nowadays, hell, sometimes I think I've seen worse way before. Way before shit hit the fan real hard."

Nate violently jabbed his index fingers against his temple.

"People have always been fucked in the head, long before the roamers."

"We ain't buying it." Pete chuckled.

"I still have my badge. Wanna see it?"

Mitch shook his head with a smiling grunt. "Fine, show it."

Nate slid a card out from his back pocket, dropping it on Pete's lap who sat next to him. Pete frowned as he picked up the card and read it. He released a laugh through his nose, flipping the card around and showing it to the others. There was a photo of him with his tongue out and a grimace. 'FBI: Federal Boobie Inspector' was written on the top. Philip glanced with little interest at the object, before shifting his attention elsewhere and propping his chin against his fist. Mitch shook his head and sipped from his can, while Pete dropped the card back onto Nate's lap.

"Always full of unfunny bullshit, Nate." Mitch said.

Nate picked up the card, staring at it with a glimpse of melancholy in his eyes, mixed with his rugged smile.

"Yeah, can't believe I still carry around this shitty card. My old pal gave it to me before the roamers. Birthday gift."

"What happened to him?" Pete asked.

"Got killed by some tattooed, pot-smelling asshole." Nate said, his face stiffening for a moment. "I chased after the fucker, but couldn't get him. He had a friend with him, couldn't catch him as well. Didn't even get a good look at him."

The humor died down in the room, while Nate rubbed the scar on his palm. He forced a faint smile onto his lips, before turning towards Philip.

"What about you, One Eye? What did you do when this all started?"

Philip shrugged, uncurling his fist and reeling out his lips.

"I survived."

* * *

Pete took a knee and inspected the supplies from the cabin that he had crammed into his backpack. Not a bad find, if there were only a few people to feed. He slid the backpack onto his shoulder once more, as the four men stood in the forest once again. Mitch nodded his head towards the horizon, indicating the next location that they would be raiding. They marched further into the forest, until mumbles reached their ears.

Nate raised his hand with his fingers stretched out. Their eyes darted around them and their ears retracted slightly, trying to pinpoint the source of the blurry conversations. Philip focused his gaze northward. Pete, Nate and Mitch looked in the same direction as him, following the origin of the noise. Philip lagged behind them, taking out his pistol and holding it near his hip.

Mitch squatted down behind a pair of trees, heavy breaths driving in and out of his lungs. Ahead of him, past the foliage, there was another encampment of survivors. Barbed wire lined a perimeter of about thirty feet wide in diameter and there were camping tents populating the makeshift campground. Pete and Nate crouched next to the soldier while Philip stood next to them, leaning against a tree. Mitch counted the men that strolled around the camp with shotguns and pistols and verified how many women there were, tending to firepits and cooking meat. There were cardboxes piled near the tents, labeled with words. _FOOD. AMMO. MEDICAL SUPPLIES._

Within the camp there were sounds of life – leaves crunched by footsteps, the cracking of branches in the flames, words and smiles being exchanged between the inhabitants. Mitch yanked the hat from his shaved head, as he readied the words that his brother wouldn't want to hear. Nate studied the campground. His eyes locked on a woman that was setting up a tent. The locks of her dark hair swayed in front of her face and her skin was darkened by muck and dirt, but she had a thin, well-rounded body. Not really his type, but he hadn't busted a nut in a while, and his standards had lowered ever since.

"Man, that brunette is fine."

"Nate, shut up and fuck off." Pete groaned.

"Oh, I wish I could."

Pete rolled his eyes before turning to Mitch. "How many?"

"Ten. Maybe more. They got a lotta supplies."

"Maybe we should take 'em in." Pete said.

"Are you crazy? That's a bad idea."

"Why? We can take them in." Pete looked at Philip. "Right?"

Philip stared at the individuals within the campground, before shaking his head. There were three men, which made no difference to him. He was already taking a risk at inviting those people to Woodbury, and he didn't want to double the risk. Pete sighed and his eyes sunk towards the ground. Mitch lowered his head, trying to make eye contact with his brother.

"Look, Pete, I know you don't wanna hurt nobody. Neither do I, but we could use the supplies. Now let's just go over there and take what we need and go home. No rough stuff."

Pete sprang his glare towards Mitch, embers sparkling in his eyes.

"You wanna rob 'em?!"

"Why not?" Nate said. "I don't wanna leave a bad impression with that girl, but we need their stuff. We can be smart about it. You'll hang back with One Eye, and I'll go in with Mit—"

"No." Pete said. "No, we can find our own supplies. C'mon."

Pete rose to his feet, marching away from the three men, which left no more room for objections. Mitch stared towards the ground, exhausting a steamy breath before jerking his hat onto his head once more and rising to his feet in a swift, robotic motion. Nate took a last look at the raven-haired woman, memorizing each feature of her visage.

"Gonna remember that face later tonight."

Nate followed after Pete and Mitch. Philip glanced at them before glancing back towards the camp of strangers. He walked after the others. It appeared that the two brothers didn't quite see eye-to-eye on how to handle things. Nate might have been annoying, but he did not care about raiding a bunch of helpless people to get supplies. Mitch had the same mindset, plus he had a fucking tank and knew how to drive it. That made the two of them an asset that he had to hold on to, even if he wanted to feed Nate to his biters.

But Pete was disgustingly naïve and could not even stomach the thought of hurting other people for his own gain. That was not how Philip did things. And that made Pete expendable.

* * *

The sky began to grow lilac as the day flew by. Pete took a knee, accounting everything he had collected in his backpack. That local market had been a bust, and if it weren't for the cabin supplies, they would have come back with empty hands. Pete tilted his head, trying to be grateful for the supplies that they did find.

"At least we still got these supplies." Pete said.

"Yeah, at least, otherwise we would've come back with nothing but a dead squirrel and condensed milk." Mitch said.

Pete sighed. "Look, I'm trying here."

Philip flickered his eyes around him as the two brothers bickered. Past the foliage, a thin cloud of smoke waved skywards. Philip frowned and slid the pistol out of his holster, sauntering amid the trees and towards the smoke. Nate lurched his head towards him.

"Hey."

Philip remained silent, his eyes riveted to the black smoke. Nate snorted and shook his head, before following after him with the two brothers. Philip marched past a bush, and halted his footsteps. The camp they had found earlier was now deadened with all of its inhabitants reduced to corpses laying on the ground, bulletholes and knife wounds throughout their bodies. The tents had been torn apart by blades and the fire emanated from a burning tent. Coolers, backpacks and cardboxes were scattered around the encampment, emptied of its supplies. Mitch stormed around the camp, zigzagging around the corpses, his eyes bolting in every direction as he yanked off his hat and slammed it against the dirt. He picked an empty box off the ground and peeked inside, before hurling it away and viciously rubbing his head.

"Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch!"

Nate scanned the cadavers for the brunette with a grimace. She was stretched out on the ground, with her blood sprayed on the dead leaves. He walked towards her and squatted, examining her. Her chest didn't move. He let out a sigh.

"Shit."

"This wasn't biters. People did this. Must'a just happened." Philip said.

"We would'a had those supplies!" Mitch said.

Pete fired a glare towards him. "You're worried about supplies?! These people are dead, Mitch."

"You're damn right they're dead! That was gonna happen either way! Now some other group's got our stuff!"

The body of an old man began moving, attracting their gazes to him. The old man could barely move, only reeling his arm out towards Mitch and letting out a groan. His eyes weren't bleak, like a biter. He was alive. Mitch marched towards the old man, taking out his knife and kneeling next to the man. Pete froze on the spot, fixating his gaze on the blade that his brother was holding. He marched towards his brother, stretching his arm towards him.

"Mitch! Mitch, no—!"

Mitch drove the knife into his temple. The old man dropped his arm and his groans turned silent. Pete halted dead on his tracks, expelling a breath from his lungs as he stared towards the dead man with a hanging jaw. Mitch got on his feet, wiping the blade against his trousers and walking away from his victim. Pete's lip twitched, as he shifted his glare towards his brother.

"He might have lived!"

Mitch shrugged, wiggling his eyebrows. "Might have."

Philip stared towards the two brothers, analyzing their dispute. The indifference and lack of hesitation when Mitch euthanized that old man, and Pete's inability to perform the simplest of 'evil' yet necessary deeds. Mitch turned his back towards his brother, while Pete antagonized him with huffing breaths and a narrowed glower. Nate glanced back towards the dead girl, before rising to his feet.

"What a damn waste."

"Ain't nothin' here for us." Mitch said, turning to Philip. "You think your man's returned by now with that truck?"

"We been out here for hours. I'd say so." Philip said.

"Alright, good. Let's head to camp and get to your place."

* * *

Philip looked through the window of his apartment, sipping from a whiskey bottle. Pete and Mitch were talking to the boys guarding the front gates, who were astounded by the tank parked at the entrance of the town. That vehicle of mass destruction would surely be a key to taking over the prison, and even if he failed to get Mitch on his side, he could just get someone to learn how to drive it. But in the meanwhile, the plan was to get their trust, and their group's.

Their group had already been assigned households the previous day and he had been received with warm greetings as he crossed the newcomers on the street. They were liking Woodbury. They were trusting him. Philip turned back towards his desk. Gabe stood on its opposite side, with a softer posture than before since there was no longer that zombified girl flailing her arms towards him, which he was somewhat glad of, even though her corpse still laid in the corner, covered by a blanket. However he did not show the slightest hint of being complacent that the girl was gone.

"I don't understand, sir." Gabe said. "We've never taken in a group before that wasn't getting fed to the biters, and now you're bringing a whole group in our walls? And you want us to really take them in?"

"I wouldn't have brought 'em here if I didn't have the need to." Philip said, putting the bottle on the desk with a thump. "Truth is, we need numbers. We need men and guns. Manpower, that's what they're providing. With the two brothers and their group, we'll tip the odds against Rick."

"You think we can trust them?"

"We can. They're just normal and naïve folk. They've already warmed up to our little town, but that ain't enough. We need to gain their unyielding trust." Philip paused, before exhaling and smirking at Gabe. "Can't ya fuckin' see? We're goin' to exterminate those sons 'a bitches at the prison and they will fuckin' pay."

"Y—yeah, I see it."

Philip nodded, beckoning towards the door. "Make yourself scarce, now. Go help Rudy take inventory of these people's supplies, I want to know exactly what we've pooled together."

Gabe nodded and left out the door. Philip pondered to himself for a while, before opening a drawer of his desk and taking out his notebook. He opened it on a blank page and drew a short, vertical line. _Day one. _As he put away the notebook, there was a knock on the door. Softer, unlike Gabe's sturdy pound. He frowned and walked over to the door, opening it. His frown relented. April greeted him on the exterior with a beam, her arms folded against her chest.

"Hello, uh..."

"The name's April."

"Right...I knew that." Philip smiled, lowering his head.

"I just wanted to say that I really appreciate you letting us stay here. I know you must be busy an' all, Governor..."

"No, not at all. Being the...Governor gets you more free time than it seems."

"Well, you know, we're getting settled in our apartment and my sister is gonna cook dinner. Thought you could come later tonight." She shrugged. "It's the least we could do."

Philip smiled. "I'd be happy to. Also...you can call me Philip."

* * *

Philip strolled down the street towards April's apartment, with his hand tucked into his pocket. The dark street was lit with torches, and it was deserted since it was past curfew. He was somewhat glad that he had some distraction off his duties, because truth be told, the following month would be nothing but waiting. He already had the manpower and the firepower, and his guards were training the citizens into a militia. Now it was just his typical responsabilities and the same routine before Rick and his group showed up at his town. He jotted down a mental note to find some fighters for the arena fights soon, since he needed to get people entertained once more.

He entered the building that April had directed him to. He headed for the last door on the hallway and knocked. He adjusted his shirt, slightly lifting the corners of his lips. He attenuated his thoughts of Michonne, of Rick, and of revenge and butchery. April opened the door. Philip raised his gaze at her. She pointed toward the interior of her house with her hand.

"Hey, there. Come on in."

Philip nodded with a simper and walked inside. April shut the door behind him. Philip was embraced by the apartment's warmth and a scent of boiling food. He observed the living room. There was dust marks on the floorboards, as if the furniture had been displaced. _The sisters have been doing some decorating. _Philip lifted his gaze, his eyes landing on the blonde girl that sat on the couch. His visage softened at the sight of her angelic expression, illuminated by the weak light of several lights spread around the room. The girl was playing backgammon with an old man that sibilated at each breath, sucking in his air through an oxygen tank.

"Meghan. C'mere, sweetie."

The girl turned towards her mother and hopped off the couch, walking towards her. She put her hand on the girl's shoulder, who laid eyes on the colossal man standing nearby. Meghan hid behind her mother's legs. Philip met her glowing gaze, her eyes flickering back and forth between his eyepatch and his stump. April let out a sheepish chuckle, looking at Philip.

"This is my daughter, Meghan."

* * *

Philip sat on the couch with April, in front of a plasma television that had been turned off a while ago ever since electricity stopped being accessible in their town. Philip felt a little stuffed after the dinner. It had been a while ever since he had had a proper meal. His appetite had vanished since the start of the outbreak, and he thirsted more for alcohol than he hungered for food. Tara had put the old man to sleep in his bedroom and Meghan too, leaving the two adults alone. April stared towards her daughter's bedroom door, her eyes glowing from the candlelight.

"I'm so glad she can be safe here again. I haven't seen her smile in so long." April let out an exhale through her nostrils. "Hell, only my father can get a chuckle out of her every now and then."

Philip nodded, anchoring his head low. It had been the same with his daughter. Once the dead started to rise, she was no longer the little girl full of life that he knew. Always with a blank in her visage, like shellshock. He quickly dissipated those thoughts about his daughter. He was no longer the same person that he was in the past, and the old Philip was dead to him, along with every memory that belonged to him. The silence persisted in the room for a while, the atmosphere weighed down by the eerie tranquility of the night and the tangerine lightning.

"Is he okay? Y'er old man, I mean." Philip said.

"Well, he's a tough bone. But not as tough as he used to be."

"What does he have? Lung cancer?"

"Emphysema."

"Hmm. That's bad."

"Those air tanks keep him going. But we only have one left, and I'm not sure how much longer it'll last. I've tried telling Mitch to look for more tanks. He says he will, but I'm sure he just says that to get me off his back."

April chuckled, shaking her head and covering her mouth with her fist.

"Sorry. Everyone's got their problems, and I shouldn't ramble about my own."

"It's okay. You look like you could use some distraction."

April snorted and sketched a sad smile. "That's an understatement."

"Well, y'know, if you wanna, you could tell Tara to watch over the girl and the old man tomorrow. And I'll show you how we get our minds off 'a everything here in Woodbury."

* * *

April wasn't sure of what she was being led to as Philip chaperoned her towards the town's stadium. The stadium was visible in the distance, sparked up by torchlight and the booming of cheering crowds. She had wanted to bring Meghan to this 'spectacle' that Philip had told her about, but he had advised her that it was best not to bring her. What could that show be? A circus? A group orgy? She tried to loosen up, putting aside the silly hypothesis, telling herself that being out there in the elements had just turned her too uptight to handle a surprise.

A quick smile raised her lips. She folded her arms and rubbed her shoulders, brushing off the cold. Maybe it was silly to think so, but it almost felt like an honor to be invited by the Governor himself to whatever the hell she was about to see. She glanced towards Philip. He met her gaze, flashing her his warm, hospitable Southerner smile. She redressed her gaze ahead of her, that simper recomforting her muscles.

Philip climbed up a staircase on the side of the stadium, leading them to the bleachers. April halted for a second, stunned by how crowded the seats were with families, men and women alike, and even some children. She frowned, but then Philip beckoned at her to follow her. April walked behind him, as he led them to an empty spot. The two sat down, and April looked towards the stadium field in the middle that was vacant.

"You still haven't told me what this is all about. The suspense is guttin' me."

"It's startin' soon. Watch." Philip said.

April felt some unease in her stomach, but she awaited for the show to start. He had a grin on his lips, similar to that of someone who is about to show a friend something really cool. Two men waltzed into the arena, brandishing tire irons. The crowd cheered on with their hands in cusps around their lips. Six guards walked into the field while holding reined roamers, attaching them to the railing enclosing the field. April widened her eyelids.

"Wait, what the fuck—?"

"Just watch."

One of the men charged at the other, swinging the iron which struck his jaw. The man collapsed on the ground, but quickly got on his feet and charged at the other. April jolted her gaze away, her jaw drooping lower. She sprang her glare towards Philip.

"What is this?! This is inhumane! Those roamers could bite 'em! You get men to fight to the death in there?!"

Philip looked at her, his faint smile straightening. He scooted closer to her, leaning nearer to her ear.

"Listen, it's all staged. We tell the fighters to just rough each other up. They make it seem like they're trying to kill each other, but in reality, it's just a show. Look, people need to have fun, otherwise this shit world will start screwin' with their minds. This is a solution."

April shut her gaping jaw, her glare thawing into comprehension. She turned back towards the fighting men, before springing to her feet. "Look, I understand why you have these fights. And if it's all staged, I guess it works. But I just don't like it."

She took a step towards the exit, but Philip grabbed her wrist.

"Hey, listen...I hope you ain't grudgin' against me 'cause of this."

"I'm not. Look, I'm just gonna go home, okay?"

Philip loosened his grasp on her and she strolled out of the stadium. Philip sighed, getting up and heading back to his apartment. He felt a bitter taste in his tongue, and a part of him told him to stop focusing on that woman and put his mind to other tasks. But he had a feeling that she would come around, and even if she didn't come to the point of wanting to watch the fights, maybe she would eventually find them less distasteful. Philip decided to call it for the night and get some shut-eye. He thought about April's dad, and those oxygen tanks that he needed. An idea popped into his head. _Pete did mention an old folk's home nearby..._

* * *

Pete peeked between the curtains of the window. The stadium was lit up and echoed with vehement clamor. Something big was going on in there, since all he heard was the distant, muffled noises of excited yells. He turned back towards his friends. Becca was on the couch with Shel, and Wyatt and Russell lounged next to them. The four of them had chosen to share an apartment. Pete knew that they were close, considering that they were together when he and Mitch found them in the wilderness. He dropped on an armchair, beaming his thumb towards the window.

"The hell's with all that ruckus?" Pete said.

"I saw a bunch'a people going into that stadium a while ago." Wyatt said. "I guess it's some kind of show. Think they still have car races in there?"

"That's stupid, Wyatt." Becca said.

"Yeah, well, that's the joke."

"Don't be rude, Becca." Shel said, making the teenager roll her eyes.

"Gotta say, this place is nice." Pete said, sliding his eyes around the house while craning out his lips. "I didn't appreciate when that Governor guy refused to take in the people we found in the woods, but he seems to have a good thing goin' here. We're no longer crammin' in campers, everyone gets an apartment..."

"Yeah, but you sure we can trust the eyepatch guy?" Russell said, folding his arms. "Somethin' about him seems off. I don't trust him."

"You don't trust anybody, Russ." Pete said.

"Yeah, well, you know why."

"Look, just don't go around doin' something that'd get us kicked out. We were gettin' plenty of roamers back at camp anyways. We needed to be here. We were lucky to stumble upon him."

"I thought for a moment that maybe these people were the same ones that Bonnie went with when it was just the five of us." Shel said. "I wonder if she has it better wherever she's at."

Wyatt sighed. "I thought maybe she'd be here, too. I looked around the town when we got here. And, I know it's dumb, but I also had a bit of hope that maybe Eddie would be here."

"Man, you need to forget about him." Russell said. "World's become a small place, but not that small."

"Eddie? That guy you were with?" Pete said.

"Yeah. But we got split. Eddie, he, uh...he killed a guy. On accident. We stumbled upon this motel, there was a bunch'a people shooting at each other there. We tried to get away from it, but this guy creeped up on us...Eddie thought he was a roamer and..." Wyatt lowered his head, sighing. "Shit."

"How'd you guys split?"

"The friend of the guy he killed chased after us and we managed to lose him. But we hit a cop on the road and I went out to check him out. And when I came back...he just drove off. I think he was being attacked by the psycho that was out to kill us." Wyatt shrugged. "But I dunno. I couldn't see much. It was foggy."

Pete sighed, getting up on his feet. "Well, I'mma go on up and get some sleep. Mitch and I'll be upstairs, Nate's takin' the third floor. Come up and holler if you need something."

* * *

Stupid. _It was stupid to do this._ When dawn came the next morning, Philip headed out to find that old folk's home. It had been easy to navigate the building, since most of the biters were strapped to beds or wheelchairs. And he had managed to come back with two air tanks before being chased away by a horde. Besides a scratch on his forehead, he was unscathed. He marched towards April's house with hurry, wanting to just deposit the tanks and leave. He didn't know why he had gone, all alone, to fetch those tanks. _It's just to get these people's trust, _he told himself.

He hauled the two tanks on his hand. He entered the correct apartment building and knocked on April's door with his stump. She opened it, and before she could say or do anything, Philip dropped the tanks by her doorstep. April extended her eyelids, her eyes riveted to the objects. Philip let out a breath.

"They're both full."

Philip marched towards the exit.

"Philip! Wait!"

Philip stopped at the front door, raising his head and pressing his tongue against his cheek. He turned around towards April, who had chased him across the hallway with her eyelids spread out. He wanted to storm out the door, he had told himself that he would forget about that woman and stay concentrated, brushing off her sympathy with a bad attitude. But his legs didn't move.

"You won't even let me say thank you?"

Philip sighed. "I just…"

April looked at the gash on his forehead and slid her fingers across it. Philip flinched.

"Look, come inside. I've got a medkit. I can patch you up."

"It's just a scratch."

April sighed. "Pretty please? C'mon. Let me be a nurse again."

* * *

Philip dropped on the toilet, staring into a void, his face constricted. April towered next to him, opening a medical kit and rummaging inside the contents. Philip remained silent, listening to his loud breaths. He rattled his leg at an erratic pace, feeling that a scratch wasn't worth wasting medical supplies, but that damned woman was insistent and he didn't have the patience to dispute. April wetted a piece of cotton with peroxide.

"You ain't gonna need stitches. But this is gonna sting like a bunch'a angry bees."

April pressed the cotton against the gash. He reeled his head back, liberating a sharp exhale. He leaned his head forward once more and she pressed the cotton against the wound. Philip remained still, sucking in the sting of the disinfectant. Her touch was considerate but somewhat forceful. _Hmph. A__ nurse._ April glanced at his expression, wondering what was going on beyond that surly gaze. She reverted her thoughts to the arena fights he had shown her yesterday. She guessed that he had to do whatever he had to do to keep people focused and breathing, but she didn't care. He had his own way of doing stuff, and it wasn't an easy world to deal with. Yet there was some kindness lurking within him beyond the unapproachable leader vibe that orbitated around him. Just the fact that he might have broadened her father's lifespan was a lot.

"Feels good to have something to do. Nobody mentioned how boring the end of the world would be."

Philip did not speak and his stare did not budge. Out of the corner of his eye, he perceived Meghan walk up to the bathroom, stopping by the doorstep.

"Mommy?"

April glanced towards her daughter. "Hi, honey. Philip just got a boo-boo. Like Becca did, or like when you get a cut." April set down the cotton, looking around the bathroom. "Shit. I don't have bandaids around here."

She turned towards Meghan, bending down slightly and rubbing her shoulder. "How about you watch my patient until I get back, huh?"

April smiled at her and headed out. Meghan followed her mother with her gaze, before looking back towards Philip. He looked grumpy, as if he was mad about something. His eyes were sunk to the tiled floor, averting her gaze. Philip tried to swallow away the discomfort of having a seven-year-old stare at him fixedly, but it stayed. He sagged his shoulders, awaiting for the girl to either leave or to break the ice.

"What happened to your eye?"

Her voice was tenuous, typical of a child full of innocent curiosity. Philip kept his voice low and his answers short.

"It's gone."

"What happened to your arm?"

"It's gone."

"Something happened to you or were you just born like that?"

"Something happened to me."

"Was that bad to ask?"

"No." Philip paused, drawing a breath. "I'll tell you what happened to my eye and arm, but you gotta promise t'keep it a secret."

"I promise."

Meghan stretched out her pinkie towards him. Philip glanced towards the gesture.

"What's that?"

"Pinkie swear."

Philip tried to decode what she meant, but he had no idea what she was talking about. He stretched out his pinkie and tapped it against hers. The girl grimaced at the motion, but her visage quickly smoothened.

"Plus, cross my heart and hope to die."

Philip nodded. "Well...I'm a pirate."

April let out a jokeful hiss, a smile flowering in her lips.

"No way!"

Philip anchored his head, a chuckle being forced through his teeth. Before he could hold it back, his stomach was throbbing with muted laughter, his stubble sketched in a grin. He inhaled, looking up at the girl with a broad yet melancholic smile, his eyes shimmering.

"Yeah, ya caught me...what really happened was that...well..." Philip muttered, his smile dying down until it evaporated. "Bad things happen, I guess."

"I'm sorry."

"Hmph. Me too."

April returned to the bathroom. She exchanged a glance with her daughter, who looked at the pirate before leaving the bathroom. April removed the coating of the bandaid and Philip returned to his meditatitve state, his mind floating away from his body. Talking to that little girl made him think of Penny. And thinking of Penny made him think of the person who took her away and her friends. The bitch, Michonne. Rick. Lee. Glenn. Maggie. And their whole fucking group. He clenched his fist, the blood in his heart boiling. The faces of all those who wronged him came to mind, and with it, came one simple thought.

_I'm coming for you. I'm coming for you all. And a month from now, I will welcome you all to your tombs._

"Philip?"

The train thought in Philip's mind came to a halt. He snapped his head up at her.

"What?"

"I asked you if you were okay. You didn't answer me. Looked like you zoned out."

"Oh. Sorry. My mind's wanderin'."

"What are you thinking about?"

Philip narrowed his eyelids, locking his gaze elsewhere.

"Old friends."


	72. 30 Days Without An Accident, I

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 - WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 72 - 30 DAYS WITHOUT AN ACCIDENT, I**

* * *

**Carl Bellic: "I'm really excited on how you will do the Prison Battle/Massacre (Depending on how you want to approach it). I'm pumped on how the Game characters will react to the death and destruction around them. Also, speaking of the 'Game'. Have you played Season 3 yet? [...]"**

**Answer:**** I've already got my plans for the prison massacre and I know exactly how it will happen. It should happen around Chapter 84, and it's going to be a massive and phenomenal chapter, so I hope you're hyping for it ;) I've already played Season 3 and I will say that it has its setbacks, but the story and characters are very enjoyable.**

**Guest:**** "****i do not need help i just have strong feelings about the hill family _****"**

**Answer: Look, I love King Of The Hill as well, but can't you see that there is no place for the Hill family in this story?**

**Guest:**** "this is autism"**

**Answer:**** Looks like someone's a little salty, eh? ;) And to the person who replied to this guest review, just ignore him/her.  
**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: I decided to split this chapter in order to get it out faster. The next part should be coming soon.**

* * *

_Time to get to work._

Rick dipped his hands into the water pooled within a barrel and splashed it onto his face. He shook his head while wiping away the dripping liquid from his beard, the breeze cooling his face and relieving the lethargy from his body. He blinked, staring at the reflection drawn in the water. It mirrored his coriaceous and bearded visage, softened by the lifestyle of a farmer. He chuckled at the thought. _A farmer._ He never imagined that he would ever have such a profession, but his days were now spent in the crops and in the pig pen instead of killing walkers and barking orders at his friends.

He glanced at his watch. _Ten__ o'clock._ Somewhat early. There wasn't anyone around, besides him. But he guessed that most people would be up on their feet in no time. _Time to get to work. _He opened the courtyard gate and strolled down the gravel driveway, sliding his work gloves on. The formerly plain yard now flourished with rows of vines, which would birth tomatoes, cucumbers and soybeans with time and care. Rick peeked inside a fenced enclosure, where five piglets were bathing in mud, communicating with joyful grunts. The pen they had built wasn't very sturdy, having been constructed with crooked and uneven planks nailed to one another, but it was good enough for fencing in baby piglets.

He headed for the small shed next to the enclosure, fetching the wheelbarrow that was filled with the tools he needed. He grabbed his hoe and initiated his typical routine, plowing the soil. The neighbors had already come to say hello – walkers mobbed at the outer fence, their fingernails screwed into the fence ligaments and their throats babbling the same kind of guttural noises. Rick tuned them out, a procedure that became automatic in his brain. He enjoyed the solitude during dawn, when the sun was still pale and his hairs were bristled by the morning chill. There was no noise pollution, no bustling activity around him. There was just him and a calm world around him. Time went by slowly. He could get lost in his thoughts, and just work. Work, and work even more, to contribute to the group. And were it not for the growls around him, things would be normal.

Hell, normalcy seemed more and more like an attainable goal as the days went by. Handling the walkers became more of a monotonous task instead of an everyday peril, and Rick had barely run for his life in the past few weeks. Routines in the prison had been undisturbed for days. They had even allowed a few strangers in, just lonely wanderers who were looking for shelter and that the council deemed trustworthy. There was this tattooed guy called Eddie, and a man called Ryan and his two children, Lizzie and Mika. _Four new __people_. He expected to find more people, but apparently the world population had thinned out much more than he thought it had.

The blade of his hoe clanged into something hard. He warped back to lucidity. He kneeled down, digging the dirt around the solid object. He discerned the contours of a handgun that was incrusted in the dirt. He wedged it out with a few strong yanks, before holding it in front of his eyes. Speckles of dirt camouflaged the steel of the weapon, but it was evidently a Colt M1911, a standard semiautomatic pistol with seven bullet capacity. He pulled out the clip. _Seven bullets._ He tossed the magazine into the wheelbarrow, before throwing the emptied pistol into it as well.

He listened to his own breathing for a few seconds, savoring the tranquility. He turned his eyes towards the walkers on the fence, inspecting their uniformity. One walker dressed in tatters, with milky eyeballs. Another one dressed in tatters, with milky eyeballs. Another one dressed in tatters, with crimson eyeballs. Rick narrowed his eyelids, fixating his gaze on that particular walker.

Its eyes were sheeted in crimson blood, the red liquid streaming down its greyed cheeks. _Hmm. Strange. _Maybe it had a hemorrhage in its skull and blood was leaking through his eye sockets, or something. Rick decided to take that theory as fact. It was just another walker. He got on his feet and took his gloves off, strapping them on his belt. He looked towards the driveway. Carl sauntered towards him, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his sheriff hat shadowing his face.

"You didn't wake me up." Carl said.

"'Cause I knew you were up all night with Sophia, reading comics with a flashlight." Rick said.

Rick and Carl leaned against the fence of the pig pen, observing the four piglets galloping around. The fifth one, however, was laying in the corner, its pink skin soaked in mud. The pig's belly swelled in irregular breaths, its eyes closed.

"What's up with Violet?"

Rick let out an admonishing sigh, spinning his gaze towards his son. "Carl, I told you not to name them. They're not piglets anymore. They're food."

"I just thought...you know, until..."

Carl lifted his eyes towards his father, who stared at him. He lowered his eyes and nodded.

"Okay."

Rick turned back towards the weary pig.

"I dunno what's goin' on with her. Could be sick, could be nothin'." Rick stretched out his lips, clicking his tongue. "Feel better...Violet."

He glanced at his son, both of them sharing a chuckle. Rick looked past his shoulder towards the courtyard. The others were gathered around the tables for a meal, underneath a roofing. Lilly was cooking the food, and everyone seemed to be loving it as they dug into their plates. Rick turned towards Carl before jerking his head toward the crops.

"C'mon, let's get to it."

* * *

Lee sat on his bed, setting up his prosthesis on his stump. He yawned after a calm night's sleep, a luxury that he feared he began to take for granted. Clementine was sitting on the top bed, putting her shoes on. Lee moved his stump, making sure that the prosthesis was well installed. Once he checked that it was, he glanced at the book that was laying near his bed. _The Art Of War._ It was an interesting read to kill off boredom, but most of all, he thought that maybe he could learn something from it.

But the problem was that the military strategies within were meant to be applied against rational human beings, and not clueless walkers who did not fear, starve or think. But he kept a few quotes in mind, in case he needed them. _All warfare is based on deception. _He slipped his feet inside his shoes, and tied the laces with his sole hand, a banal task turned difficult for him. He sighed at every occasion where he lost grip of the laces or didn't manage to knot them.

"Do you need help with that?" Clementine asked.

Lee chuckled. "N'ah. I might take my time, but I'm good."

"Okay, if you say so." Clementine smiled, watching her mentor's struggle.

"I'm gonna head out later on."

"Where to?"

"A supermarket nearby. Daryl spotted it while out on a run, said it seemed intact. It's worth a shot."

Lee took his Glock from his belt. He caressed the letter that was written on the slide, before checking the clip. _Full_. "You should hang out with Carl and Sophia. Y'know, read comics, books, play catch, that kind of stuff. You should talk to Lizzie and Mika too."

"Hmm...okay. But I don't like being around Lizzie. She acts weird sometimes."

"Don't be judgmental, sweet pea. It's a crazy world, and sometimes that makes people...a little different. They lost their mother a while back, y'know. That can...that can be painful. Just try to have fun with them a little."

"Alright, I will."

Lee smiled. He was thankful that Clementine had a chance to be a kid in the prison, but it seemed as if her child's innocence had permanently worn out and she hadn't mellowed a lot. If only he could see her playing and drawing leaf rubbings like she used to. But her artistry and playfulness had vanished. _Maybe it's not a bad thing. Maybe she's just growing up. _

A basketball struck the wall with a sharp thump. Lee recoiled on his mattress, his breath leaving his lungs. The ball ricocheted and bounced back towards the cell's entrance and into the hands of its thrower. Molly, who burst in giggles at the startle she provoked.

"Jesus Christ! You wanna take my head off?" Lee said.

"Just got my bandages taken off by the doc." Molly grinned. "So it's time for us to have a match and for me to kick your ass, like I said I would."

"Well, uh...I'm going on a run, can't this wait?" Lee said, letting out a sheepish chuckle.

"So what? It'll be a little warmup before you head out and run away from zombies. And you're not leaving right away, are you now?"

"I guess not."

"See? C'mon, don't wriggle your way out of this."

Lee snickered, getting on his feet. "Well, I guess you got me. It's on. Clementine, go ahead and get some breakfast. I'll meet you there."

"Okay, have fun."

Clementine stretched out on her mattress, her lips raised as her golden eyes looked at the two adults, both of them locking a tender and friendly gaze on one another, exchanging foolish smiles and quips regarding who would win the match.

* * *

Merle snaked between the tables, his lips coiling as his eyes rolled around the people that stuffed their faces with venison. Venison that came from a deer that he had hunted. Venison that he had to share with everyone else, which was pathetic. If they wanted food, they could go out and hunt it for themselves, but that wasn't the regulation around that fucking prison, and his soft brother forced him to split their game among everyone.

Daryl walked alongside his brother, replying to the greets that he received as he strolled by, along with the occasional compliment for the hunt. Merle hissed a breath. Daryl had accompanied him in the hunt, but evidently, nobody would dare thank the big bad Merle for the food on their plate. Next time, he would go hunting alone and stash away whatever he killed. Alice lifted her eyes from her medical textbook, looking at Daryl.

"Morning, Daryl."

"'Sup, Dr. A?"

"Funny how both of us was out there huntin' but ain't nobody acknowledged ol' Merle." Merle said.

Daryl snorted, deeming that his brother was just being pissy. "I was the one who took the shot."

"And I was the one who saw the deer in the first place." Merle said. "Y'know what, lil' brother? I don't care."

Merle decided to pass on breakfast with a myriad of people that he detested and walked away. Daryl shrugged and headed towards Lilly, who was grilling the venison and distributing the meat in several bowls. Daryl glanced at the meat, his stomach clenching at the sight. Lilly greeted him with a brief glance. He sniffed the air, inhaling the smoky aroma while she flipped over the meat on the grill with a barbecue fork.

"Hmm. Smells good."

Lilly glanced towards Alice. "Just for you own sake, don't let the fame go to your head."

"Stop." Daryl said, picking up a bowl of venison and dropping a piece of meat into his mouth. "Y'know, Rick brought in a lot 'a 'em too."

Lilly shrugged with a frown. "Not recently."

"Hmm. Right."

She set down the fork. "Y'know, I need to show you something."

Lilly turned around towards Ryan, who was sitting with his daughters at a table nearby.

"Ryan, you wanna take over?"

"Yeah, if you want me to."

Ryan gyrated out of his seating and walked up to the grill, his eyes setting upon Daryl with a smile. "Hey, Daryl. I wanted to thank you for the deer you brought back. It's a treat, my daughters are lovin' it. Thanks."

Ryan extended his hand out towards him. Daryl exhaled and sucked the greasy bits of venison from his fingers, before smashing his hand into his in a squishy handshake. Ryan's smile faltered as Daryl shook his limp hand. Lilly let out a smiling snort. Ryan wiped his fingers against his shirt while Daryl followed her to the courtyard fence, where they had a view over the main yard.

The number of walkers knocking on the fences was astounding, maybe dozens, maybe more. Their attempts to break into the prison were relentless and constant, like lumps of cancer trying to invade a healthy host. Karen, Ben and Kenny were taking out the walkers by thrusting their weapons through the fence, but the task appeared endless with more dead corpses joining the ranks, stumbling out from within the forest and drawn to the tinkling of the rattled chainlink. Entering and exiting the prison for runs had become an issue because of them, but the main gate was now surrounded by angled spikes, which would impale any walker that tried to approach the gate.

"It's getting as bad as last month. They don't spread out anymore." Lilly said while he banqueted on the venison.

"With us sittin' more out here, we're drawin' more 'a them out." Daryl said while chewing, flashing his finger towards the fences. "Ya get enough 'a those fence-clingers, they start t'herd up."

"Pushing against the fences again. It's manageable, but unless we get ahead of it, not for long. And your little arrows aren't gonna be enough to take them all out."

Lilly glanced at him, flashing him a brief, provocative smirk. Daryl snorted, shoving a hunk of venison into his mouth as he bumped his elbow against her side.

* * *

Ben stared at the walker that stood beyond the outer fence, who drove its face into the chainlink, its visage contracting with each closing of its jaws as if it tried to intimidate him with a grimace. He readjusted his grip on the knife spear that he held, before thrusting it between the ligaments of the fence. He released a low whimper as the blade pierced the walker's eye-socket. The walker withered against the fence and he retracted the blade. Ben backed away, gagging with the smell that reached his nostrils and forced him to cover them with his forearm.

Killing walkers through the fence wasn't a difficult task, but the stench always got to him. But he didn't have a whole lot of utility around the prison, and dispatching walkers on the fence seemed like the only thing he could do. He walked towards the fence once more, taking a deep breath before hollowing out the skull of another walker, quickly targeting another walking corpse and ending its life. Kenny drew a deep breath, taking a step back and leaning against the inner fence for a while. He watched the teenager kill the walkers. He was quick. He didn't hesitate. Not like before. But he wasn't sure if he would keep his cool once there wouldn't be a fence between him and the walkers.

"Heard you're gonna be headin' out with us later on." Kenny said.

Ben turned around, his voice stammering. "Y—yeah. I, uh...volunteered to do it."

Kenny nodded. "Don't get me wrong, I'm gonna keep an eye on you. You feel me?"

"Yeah, I feel you."

Tyreese knotted an apron around his neck, while clenching his machete in his armpit. He riveted his eyes on Karen with a smile, his footsteps leading him to her. He watched her drive a sharpened cane into the eyesocket of a walker, which dropped against the chainlink, but another walking cadaver quickly stumbled over it, occupying its place. Karen retracted the cane, her eyes flicking between the several targets at her disposition.

"Hey, beautiful."

Karen held back the thrust of her weapon, her gaze turning towards him. Her lips curved into a smile and Tyreese mimicked, seeing a spark light up in her eyes as she set them upon him. Her face stood out from the dark blood that stained her apron. Karen strolled towards him with a lackadaisical strut.

"Hey, yourself."

She wrapped her gloved arm around his neck and their lips connected. The moans beyond the fence became background noise, until they detached from one another. Karen glanced down at his machete and his apron.

"You're going to be clearing biters too?" Karen said.

"I thought of goin' on that run today." Tyreese said. "But Lee said they already had enough people."

"Well, looks like you're stuck with me." Karen said, winking at him.

"Good, it'll make this less boring."

"Boring? You volunteer all the time to do this. I thought you did it to stave off the ennui."

Tyreese smirked, his gaze sinking to the ground. "I did it all the time 'cause you did it all the time. Thought I could get t'know you."

Karen loosened her lips into a wider simper. "You did."

* * *

Travis slid into his highschool jacket, after switching from the sports attire into his usual clothes. He wiped his forehead, his body heated up after facing off in a basketball duel against Eddie, who sat on the bleachers, sliding his beanie on and buckling his two earrings back on his right earlobe. Travis stared at his right arm, which was entirely tattooed with words scrawled in graffiti style. The body painting was a visual palette of magenta and green, graciously braiding into one another.

Eddie got on his feet, with a latent smile on his lips. _This is fucking paradise. _He arrived at the prison only a few days ago, and it was like he was in a five-star hotel. He felt hungry, however there was food cooking just outside and he didn't have to spend all day searching for a freaking can of cold ravioli. And they had so much space there. He was tired of cramming himself in that old, tiny, yellow Volkswagen. Not to mention that he no longer had to deal with a crusty ass from wiping his butthole with dead leaves so many times. He turned towards the teenager, sighing after the workout.

"Where'd you get those tats?" Travis asked.

"I was high and in the company of friends. You can guess what happened next." Eddie smiled.

"They look pretty rad. I'd love to have something like that. But I've yet to meet a tattooer in the end of the world."

"We're in a prison, they're bound to have needles hiding somewhere."

"I'll keep an eye out for them." Travis chuckled.

Travis and Eddie strolled towards the exit of the gymnasium. "Man, I gotta say, this place is awesome. You got food, basketball, beds, a fucking toilet to shit in...this week's been fucking heavenly."

"Yeah, well, it's thanks to Rick and Lee. They're the ones who've led us this far. Rick saw the potential in this place. Pushed us to turn it into what it is today."

"I thought I was going to get shot when I drove up to this place. Thank God that wasn't the case." Eddie sighed, lowering his gaze. "It's times like this I wish my buddy Wyatt was around."

"He, uh...did he die?"

Eddie shrugged. "Maybe. I dunno. We got attacked by some psycho and got split up. I just...drove away and never found him." He let out a sad chuckle. "He would fucking love this place. Hmph. At least we had some good times. Smoking pot all the time, gettin' hammered, trying to pick up chicks...getting rejected by said chicks..."

Travis chuckled. "Sounds like my highschool days. Minus the weed and booze."

Lee and Molly stepped inside the gymnasium, the latter bouncing a basketball between her hand and the floor. Travis narrowed his eyelids.

"You guys gonna play?"

"Heh, yeah." Lee grinned, before turning his smile to Molly. "She dragged me in here."

"You set yourself up on this one." Molly said.

"Well, good luck, Lee. I think you'll need it." Travis said.

Travis and Eddie left the gymnasium, closing the double door behind them. Molly jogged towards the field, dribbling the ball. Lee smirked, guessing that the past weeks of bedrest had left her more than a little energetic. He unscrewed the prosthetis off his stump, setting it aside on the bleachers. He headed for his side of the field. Molly tossed the ball at the floor, which leaped into Lee's hands.

"I'll let you start, make it fair." Molly said.

Lee dribbled the ball with his hand for a few seconds, glad that he had played a few times with Tyreese the past weeks. "First to three wins, alright?"

"Fine. Now stop stalling, Everett!"

* * *

Glenn stared at the ceiling of the watchtower, sunlight faintly piercing the dusty windows. The temperature seemed to be a bit chilly, but laying underneath his blankets with Maggie cuddling with him warmed both of them. Glenn glanced at her. She had her eyes closed, but she was awake, her fingertip twirling around his torso. He released a sigh and dropped his head back on the mattress.

"Y'know, people are startin' t'talk..." Maggie mumbled with a groggy voice.

Glenn chuckled. "About us having sex?"

"Kind'a, but not exactly. Andrea's practically waitin' an announcement. Like Christa and Omid did."

"People think you're pregnant already?"

"I'm not."

Glenn leaned on his elbow, looking at Maggie with widened eyelids. "You know?!"

"Yeah."

Glenn thawed into a grin, resting his head against her shoulder. "Oh, God...thank God..."

"I didn't wanna. But we could've. We can have lives here."

Glenn raised his gaze at her, his grin dissipating. "How can you say that after...after everything? After Lori?"

"What're you tellin' me? That it's not safe? What if this is the safest place in the world? What if this is it for us? Shouldn't we just start a family? I don't wanna be afraid 'a being alive. We got a doctor now, and she says Christa's comin' along pretty well so far. Why wouldn't I?"

Glenn stared at her for a moment with the corners of his lips sunken. "I...I don't know. I just don't know. I'm afraid of what might happen. And being afraid is what's keep us alive for so long."

"No." Maggie shook her head. "It's how we kept breathin'."

* * *

_Two to two._ The score was even, one point away from victory. Lee towered in front of Molly, his eyes following the ball that jumped from her right hand to the other. He stretched out his arms and kept his feet distant, trying to cover a big area of his field. She shoved the ball towards the gap between his legs, hoping to pass the ball behind him and circumvent around him. But he had predicted her strategy.

He snatched the ball, stopping it from passing between his legs, and took off in a sprint towards her hoop, his legs hammering the floorboards. Molly frowned and immediately chased after him. Lee grinned as the hoop grew closer and he jumped towards it, slam-dunking into the net. His chest throbbed with laughter as he hanged from the hoop with one hand, while Molly groaned and leaned on her knees, panting.

"Fuck." Molly mumbled.

Lee let go of the hoop and landed back onto the ground. "Well, now we know who kicked who's ass."

"I'm going to get a fucking rematch. You only won 'cause I felt sorry for you."

"Keep telling yourself that. In the meanwhile, learn not to be a sore loser." Lee smiled.

* * *

Ben sighed a weight off his chest as he slid his now full clip into his handgun. Now was the time. The first time he would go out on a supply run with the others. _Everything will go fine. _If he kept his senses keen and had some control over himself, nothing would go bad. But the anticipation lingered around in his torso. He had no trouble killing walkers through the fence, but that didn't mean anything in the heat of the moment of having a herd slowly gang up on him.

Daryl put his shotgun on the rear of a pickup, while Lee and Kenny tossed their backpacks and jerricans into the trunk of their Hyundai. Merle was fiddling with the engine of his motorcycle. Travis sat on the tailgate of the pickup, sliding the eighth and final shell into his shotgun. He cocked the pump, before putting the weapon amidst the other guns and the piles of empty crates and jerricans. He glanced towards his friend who sat beside him, his eyes locked on the asphalt while he mumbled words under his breath, most likely to psych himself up.

"You made sure to take a piss before we go?" Travis chuckled.

"Screw you, you're not helping." Ben snarled.

Travis shifted his gaze elsewhere, just as Beth strolled by them, not looking at him.

"Hey!"

Beth halted and turned her gaze towards him. Travis hopped off the tailgate and skipped towards her. "Hey! I was just gonna come find you."

"What's up?"

"Well, the council rounded up a crew to go out on a run. Figured I'd step up to help, y'know. I just wanted to, uh, make sure I saw you before."

Beth nodded, her face remaining static. "Okay."

Travis released a sheepish chuckle, lowering his head. "Beause, uh, y'know, it's dangerous going out there."

Beth smiled, an effort at not appearing so nonchalant, before rolling her eyes. "I know."

She turned around and continued her walk. Travis placed his hands on hips while he followed her with his gaze. "Not even gonna say goodbye?"

"Nope." Beth said, with a playful intonation.

She disappeared around the corner of a prison building. Travis hissed between teeth, with a half-smile. "Man, she ice cold."

"Pfft. It's like a damned romance novel." Daryl said.

* * *

Rick squatted amidst the rows of vines with Hershel, who handled the branches and examined them with a sharp eye. Rick glanced at his missing leg, which was now completed by a peg leg, covered in a boot, which allowed the old man to walk properly. He looked back towards Hershel's hands, hearing his instructions.

"These leaves are gonna be in the shade." Hershel said. "So we won't get any good fruit from it. So we just pinch it off here..."

Hershel snapped a branch in half and tore out half of it. He dug a small hole in the dirt and planted the torn branch inside, covering it up with the dirt.

"Things break, but they can still grow. These little bristles, they'll take root and we'll have a whole new plant."

Rick nodded, memorizing that lesson. The roar of a car outside the prison made him raise his head and turn his gaze towards the road. Michonne was driving up in the yellow Volkswagen, the distraction magnetizing handfuls of walkers towards her. Rick sprang to his feet and whistled at Carl, who stood by the pig enclosure.

"The gate!"

Carl nodded and dashed alongside his father towards the gate. They pulled it to the side and Michonne drove inside, parking the vehicle on the side of the driveway. Rick locked the gate once more, glancing at a few walkers who now had a spike drilling through their ribcages, albeit they kept flailing their arms. But the spikes stopped them from getting too close, at least. _Thanks for the idea, Morgan._

Michonne exited the vehicle, while Rick and Carl jogged towards her. She glanced towards the fences. Tyreese and Karen took down a walker at the same time, before exchanging a grin and a passionate kiss. Michonne frowned, but quickly hid her expression as she faced Rick and his son.

"Glad to see ya." Rick smiled.

"Glad to see you, too." Michonne said, returning the smile.

"Find anythin' while scoutin'?"

"Few places, but they were all picked clean." Michonne looked at Carl. "But...somebody hit the jackpot."

Michonne fished a pack of comic books from her pouch, lighting up a glow in Carl's eyes. "No way!" Carl picked up the comics, scrutinizing their covers with a laugh. "Awesome! Thank you."

"I get to read 'em when you're done." Michonne smirked, before turning to Rick.

"You gonna stay a little while?"

"Yeah, I'm done for today. It just seems like it's getting harder to find places that still have supplies we can take."

An ensemble of roaring engines drove down the gravel path. Rick turned towards the three vehicles, composed of the scavenging crew that was heading out. Merle was at the front of the convoy, leaned back on his motorcycle. Lee and Daryl braked their vehicles near Rick, leaning their heads out of their windows.

"Well, look who's back. Glad to see you in one piece." Daryl said to Michonne, before turning to Rick. "I'm gonna go check out the Big Spot. The one I was talking about, just seein'."

"Yeah, I gotta go out and check the snares." Rick said. "Don't wanna lose whatever we caught to the walkers."

Daryl nodded, reeling his head back inside his vehicle. Rick beckoned at Lee, wishing him luck with his gaze. He glanced towards the two teenagers who sat on the rear enclosure of the pickup truck. _I hope they don't screw up. _Rick watched them drive away into the distance, before looking at Carl.

"Going to check the snares?" Carl asked.

"I am. You're not. Do your chores. Read comics. Maybe some books, too. Hang out with Clementine."

Rick patted his son's shoulder and headed back to the crops. Hershel limped towards the sheriff, with a faint smile and his hands in his pockets.

"You got your gun with you?"

"Yeah, it's always with me." Rick said, patting the Colt Python on his holster.

"Nothing wrong with staying close, Rick. Everyone understands. Axel and Omid been helpin' a lot in the farming. But you're growing us enough food so we won't need to do runs soon. We do need to find you a good pair of overalls."

Rick chuckled, flicking his eyes through the soil and the walkers on the fences.

"You need to look the part." Hershel said, bringing his fingertips closer to his lips. "A little piece 'a wheat comin' outta your mouth. Maybe a bigger ass, may the Lord pardon my language."

Rick nodded with a gentle laugh. "Yeah."

* * *

Rick walked through the forest, with his pouch dangling against his waist. The traps were just a few steps away, and a bizarre scent of rotting flesh carried by the wind indicated something was wrong. He circled around a tree, stopping in front of the cadaver of a deer. The animal was severed in half, with bite marks on its fur and flies frolicking on its snout. _Fuck. The walkers were here earlier._

An animalistic grunt reached his ears, instinctively raising his eyes. A boar laid on the grass a few steps away, releasing agonized grunts. Maybe it was wounded, or a walker had gotten a hold of it before it escaped. He tiptoed towards the hurt animal, wondering if it could still serve as a meal.

A female walker with grimy hair and a long, dark coat stumbled towards the downed animal. Rick stepped behind a tree, taking a deep breath. He glanced around the tree. The walker kneeled near the boar, running its fingernails on its fur. Rick bit his lip. _Not worth it. _The animal was surely infected, and he wasn't taking any risks. He faced the way he had come from, taking a step forward without worrying about noise. He could easily outrun a single walker. A branch cracked beneath his foot.

"...wait!"

Rick froze at the weak, feminine voice. He slowly glanced past his shoulder. The "walker" was standing on its feet, staring at him with bulging, blue eyes. The woman's skin was layered with dirt and mud, her clothes nothing but dirty rags sagging off her body. Rick remained silent for a while. He knew that the end of the world took a toll on people, but it was the first time that he saw someone so beat up that he mistook them for a walker.

"...wait...please...please...help me..."

Her pitchy voice was hoarse and stammered with each word, her timbre shaky just like the hand that she was stretching out towards the sheriff, a desperate attempt to stop him from leaving her.

"...I know you don't know me...okay, I know that...but can you please help me get this to my husband? We haven't eaten in days..."

Rick kept his distance from her, having stayed inert for a minute. He didn't know what to say, but he knew what to do as he flickered his eyes down her skeletal physique. He opened his pouch and took out a sandwich wrapped in aluminium foil. The woman's eyes sprang towards the food, her eyes glowing at the mere sight of something edible. Rick extended the sandwich to her.

"Here, go ahead."

She flipped her gaze towards Rick, staring at him for a lengthy moment. Her eyes dropped back towards the sandwich and her hand slowly reached for it. She grabbed the meal, looking Rick dead in the eye as he loosened the grip on the food and let her take it. Rick gulped, feeling a gentle unease in his stomach. The woman never blinked and her eyes were constantly inflated in her sockets, as if she didn't have any eyelids at all.

"...thank you...do you have a camp around here...?"

Rick pondered on his response for a while. "Um...yeah."

"...c—could we possibly come back with you...? We've been doing...very badly on our own."

"I'd have to...I'd have to meet him. I need to ask him some questions, both 'a you."

"...what questions?"

"Just three. When we get there. Do you have a gun on you?"

The woman shook her head.

"Can I make sure?"

She nodded with a shrug, her eyes sinking to the ground. She loosened her muscles, awaiting for the sheriff to be done with it. Rick circled around her, frisking her with light taps on her body, not wanting to be intrusive. The frisking routine was still engraved in his muscles – wrists, armpits, hips, legs. The typical spots for a criminal to hide their weapons. He struck a knife holstered around her waist. He took away the knife and finished up the frisking on her ankles. He sprang to his feet and marched in front of the woman, locking his glare with her puppy eyes.

"Look, I don't know you, so I'm just gonna tell you this. You try anything...anything...you're gonna be the one who loses."

"...I don't have anything else to lose..."

Rick nodded. "No. You do."

Rick toyed with her knife in his fingers. He had taken Michonne's katana when she came to the prison. He also took Eddie's weapons and Ryan's as well when they were first newcomers. But his heart hurt as he inspected the woman in front of him, who appeared to be simply a shell of a person who managed to live one day after the other. It was obvious that he had the upper hand on her, with or with no knife. He stretched the weapon towards her.

"Go ahead."

The woman stared at the knife for a lengthy moment, before taking the blade and holstering it on her belt. Without a word, she turned around and marched off into the woods. Rick looked at the way she walked, stomping one foot after the other in a rapid yet shambling jaunt. A human in the disguise of a walker. Keeping a few feet of distance from her, he followed after her.


	73. 30 Days Without An Accident, II

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 73 - 30 DAYS WITHOUT AN ACCIDENT, II**

**AUTHOR NOTE: A note to certain of you before you dive in - there've been a few recent reviewers I tried to reply to, but who had their PM's disabled, and I was enable to give them a response. So, yeah, if you want me to answer, maybe turn that back on. But I'll answer these reviews in the guest section for now. I'll write in italics the names of the users who have their PM's disabled.**

* * *

**TravethForLyfe: "Pls dont kill Travis, he still needs to have sex with beth, I will be sad if you kill him :( ****Also, low key ship Lee and Rick :)"**

**Answer: Oh, look, a new reader! Glad to see that you feel so strongly about Travis, hell, everybody loves Travis! Everybody loves Traveth even more! Also, don't worry, Lee/Rick yaoi coming next chapter. ****#TeamTravis ****#TeamTravis ****#Pray4Travis ****#TeamTravis ****#TeamTravis**

**Guest:**** "I was glad to have made your day with my last review. As you probably know, they came out with the new Walking Dead game. My question is that would you be including those characters somewhere down the line as well, or just the characters from the first two seasons? Anyways, keep up the good work!"**

**Answer: Your words were motivating since it's already such a big miracle when someone reads this entire cringefest of a story, but it's even more heartwarming to hear that someone likes this story so much that they read it three times xD To answer your question, the answer is that I do not have any plans for introducing any elements of Season 3...yet. Things might change, but I don't see where they would fit. Not to mention that I'm going to have to end this story somewhere down the line, I can't cover the show until its final season or the comic books until its final issue.**

_**T. E. K. 1996:**_** "****What is Ben's fate going to be? Personally killed by the Governor? ****Take Bob Stookey's role in the TV series, I.e., Get bit, kidnapped by cannibals, lose his leg and slowly passed on? ****Live until he gets to Alexandria and takes Noah's role in the TV series?****"**

**Answer: Well, those are all great theories, but I can't spoil you, now can I? I'd have to kill you if I told you what happens next ;)**

**_Deadmantellgoodtales:_ "****I love your story so much it's inspired me to start my own crossover series, of course I won't copy you or the way you do things but it will be a big inspiration for what happens! I'm so glad I came across this fanfiction! I love it so much!"**

**Answer:**** Dude, thanks so much for the compliments! I swear, you guys are giving me mad support right now and I couldn't be happier with the feedback I've been getting. I've actually had a lot of people tell me that my own story has inspired them to make their own stories, and that shit makes my day! Thanks so much for your review and I hope you'll keep enjoying this story.**

* * *

Merle slowed down the motorcycle to a halt and pulled up next to a chainlink fence, his eyes sweeping the military perimeter installed in front of the Big Spot supermarket. The truck and the Hyundai following his lead braked behind him, the choir of engines devolving from roars into twitters, until their drivers silenced the vehicles. Travis got on his feet, grabbed his shotgun and vaulted over the side of the truck, his feet thumping against the asphalt. Ben hopped off the vehicle after his friend, taking his handgun from the back of his belt and holding it with both hands in front of his waist. He closed his eyes for a brief second, in which he took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and scoped out the outpost – the emptied crates strewn around the area, the abandoned Humvees and the tents with loose flaps that wagged with the wind, set up within the fenced zone.

Daryl walked up to his brother with his crossbow latent in his grip. He scanned the fence for an entrance. The quickest way in was a hole cut into the chainlink. Kenny sharpened his hearing, searching for a certain sound. Music faintly boomed in the distance, almost imperceptible with the wind's whistle. Lee examined the rooftop of the building. The tail of a crashed helicopter was visible, its rear blades bent. Dried liquid stained the beige walls of the edifice, darkening its color.

"Army came in and put these fences up. Made it a place for people to go." Daryl said, flapping a hand towards the abandoned outpost.

"Pro'bly thought hemmin' in people would protect 'em from the biters." Merle said, unslinging his assault rifle from his back.

"Last week when we spotted this place, there was a bunch'a walkers inside the chainlink, keepin' people out like guard dogs."

"So they just left?" Travis asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kenny clicked his tongue and shook his head. He jolted his chin towards the distance. "Listen closely."

Travis frowned, slightly lowering his head while he formed a cusp with his hand around his ear. He tuned out the distant moans, of walkers who hid somewhere in the environs, and perceived a low, booming bassline reaching his ears. He lifted his eyes towards Kenny, who nodded with a dimmed smile lining his mustache.

"Yep. Put a boombox back there yesterday. Hooked it up to a car battery."

"Alright." Lee said with a praising nod. "Let's sweep this place."

Lee broadened the gap in the chainlink with his hand and stepped inside the perimeter. He headed for the nearest tent, peeking inside. Vacant, aside from a flipped table and scattered papers. The place seemed to be an urban desert. The windows that composed the front of the store were dusty but intact. With the military set up there, people probably hadn't been able to loot the supermarket in the beginning of the outbreak. Merle's eyes landed on the top of a flagpole standing in the middle of the outpost, a dirty American flag dancing the wind.

"God bless America." Merle said in a stale tone, as his eyes returned to his surroundings.

Lee turned towards his crew. "Make sure it's safe, grab what you can. We ought'a haul everything we find onto the cars only once we've swept the entire place."

"Check the store." Merle said with his gaze posited on his brother. "We'll sweep this place, see if there's anythin' worth takin'. Maybe one of them Humvees still work."

Daryl nodded and headed towards the windowed façade of the supermarket. Ben wiped his hand against his jeans, which began to moisten. His visage was dulled but his eyes darted in every direction, scanning any hiding spots where a walker could be hidden. There was just silence, however, and so far, no walkers had shown up, drawn to the human presence. Ben gulped and untensed his posture. Travis looked at him, noticing his abstraction. He hissed between teeth. Ben sprang his distracted gaze towards his friend.

"Snap out of it. C'mon." Travis jerked his head towards the supermarket, receiving a hurried and nervous nod from Ben.

Kenny marched around the outpost, peeping inside the tents and the toppled crates. His expectations met up with what he found – either junk or nothing. Merle opened the door of a Humvee jeep, rummaging beneath the seats and inside the glove box for keys. He groaned. _No way to start up these sons 'a bitches._ He thought about hotwiring the military jeep, but he didn't have the tools to do so and he wasn't acquainted with the mechanical anatomy of a Humvee. Daryl approached the front of the story and knocked on the windows with his fist. He turned back around toward Lee and the two teenagers, before sitting down on the windowsill.

"Just give it a second."

Lee nodded and folded his arms, his eyes orbiting to the ground. Ben kept his gaze riveted on the windows, each fiber in his body stiffing with the anticipation of a walker breezing up beyond the glass. Travis let out a chuckle and sat next to Daryl, while fidgeting with his shotgun.

"Hmm. I think I got it."

Lee raised his head. "Got what?"

"I've been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn."

"He's been trying to guess for four weeks." Daryl smiled, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I'm pacing myself. One shot a day." Travis said, stretching out his index finger.

"Alright, shoot." Daryl nodded, looking at the teenager.

"Well, the way you are at the prison, you being on the council, you're able to track, you're helping people but you're still being kind of...surly. Big swing here." Travis paused, his eyes flitting from Lee to Ben, remaining silent for a while for effect. He turned his gaze towards Daryl. "Homicide cop."

Lee hissed a chuckle that burst through his lips, before he rattled with laughter. Ben let out a nervous snicker that he was repressing, wanting to stay serious and focused during the run. Daryl glanced at the two of them, the corners of his lips slightly raised but his visage deliberate and austere.

"What's so funny?" Daryl said.

"Nothing. Makes perfect sense." Lee said, his lips curled in a simper.

"Actually, the man's right." Daryl confirmed with a nod. "Undercover."

Travis sissed an incredulous chortle, tilting his head. "C'mon, really?"

"Yep." Daryl nodded, his voice lowering in pitch. "I don't like to talk about it 'cause it was...a lotta heavy shit, y'know?"

Travis looked at the ground, his face softening into a serious expression as it appeared. _Looks like I finally got it right. _He glanced back at Daryl. He stared towards the teenager, the corner of his lip twitching as if he was holding back a guffaw. Travis pivoted his gaze towards the asphalt once more and released a sigh.

"Okay, I'll just keep guessing, I guess."

"Yeah, you keep doing that." Daryl nodded, turning his eyes towards his brother who was investigating the jeeps.

"Hmm-hm." Travis grunted, looking up at his teenaged friend. "What about you, Ben? What do you think Daryl used to do?"

Ben shrugged, with his arms crossed. "I dunno. I've never been good at guessing."

"C'mon, take a shot." Travis said with an encouraging tone. "What do you think Daryl did before the walkers?"

"I dunno." Ben said, flicking his eyes towards Daryl and examining him, as if he searched for clues, but his brain wasn't focused. Daryl nodded at him, giving him the go-ahead to guess. Ben decided to say the first thing that came to mind. "I can't really picture you having a job."

Daryl stared towards him, his visage remaining stoical but emitting an earnest vibe this time around. "Not too far from the truth, kid."

A ghostly silhouette pounded against the windows. Ben flinched, his heart going off and his respiration pacing up in response. Daryl got up and readied his crossbow, while Merle and Kenny rushed towards the rest of their team. Ben tensed his face, inhaling a relieving breath and normalizing his heartbeat. _It's j__ust a walker. _The six of them stacked up in front of the glass door, their guns ready to fire in their grip. Lee glanced at Daryl.

"We're gonna do this, detective?" Lee smiled.

"Let's do it." Daryl nodded.

Daryl opened the door with one hand, while keeping his crossbow horizontal with the other. A dead body that was sitting against the door dropped on the concrete, blocking their path. Travis grasped the cadaver by the wrists and dragged it away. Kenny peeked inside, before turning to the others.

"Alright, we go in, stay in formation for the sweep. After that, y'all know what you're supposed to look for."

Lee nodded and walked into the store first. Ben lagged behind, waiting for everyone to go inside before him. He glanced behind his shoulder, his eyes locking in place. A pair of legs were slumped on the pavement, its upper half missing. The waist was a black, crusty stump, with remainders of intestines still adhered to it. Ben walked towards the human remains, his upper lip twisted. He looked up. The edge of the store's rooftop was painted with dried blood, as if a walker had been severed in half and its legs had fallen from there. He turned back to his group, only to see that everyone had disappeared inside the store. _Crap__, I shouldn't be splitting up from the others. _He locked his grasp on his handgun and jogged after the others inside.

* * *

_Lizzie. She acts weird sometimes. _Clementine didn't want to be mean, but what else was she meant to think? She and Mika were shouting at the walkers in taunts behind the inner fence and calling them by first names that they invented. It was mostly Lizzie who did weird stuff like that, often spending her time in the yard near the walkers, but apparently her younger sister Mika was joining in on the "fun". Clementine walked towards the two sisters, alongside Sophia and Carl who held hands. Sophia appeared nonchalant towards the bizarreness of the sisters, but Carl had his brow contorted at what they were doing.

"Look over here!" Lizzie yelled at one of the walkers, noticing a nameplate on its mechanic outfit. _Mick._ "Mick, look over here!"

Clementine sighed. She regretted going to see the sisters, but she did it anyway, wanting to do what Lee wanted her to. _They've gone through bad things. _That's what Lee told her, and he was always right. Carl halted behind the sisters, his frown pressing down on his eyes while he let out a scolding sigh. Lizzie and Mika stopped hollering at the walkers and turned around towards the other kids, their expressions unphased.

"You're naming them?!" Carl asked.

"Well, one of them has a name tag, so...we thought all of them should." Mika said, punctuating her sentence with a gleeful, innocent smile. Clementine withdrew her head. What was it with their behavior? Didn't they know what the walkers did? Guessing whatever their names were before the outbreak wasn't supposed to be some kind of child's game.

"They had names when they were alive. They're dead now." Carl said.

"They're not people anymore." Clementine said, the corner of her lips wrung.

"Yes, they are. They're just different." Lizzie deadpanned, a tone that constrasted with her sister's.

Carl tilted his head with his eyebrow raised, as if he thought that he didn't hear her correctly. Clementine sighed, folding her arms and holding back a retort. She didn't want to argue with the naïve girl. She didn't like arguing, it was something that always annoyed her in the long months spent on the road with her group. And Lee wouldn't like her getting into arguments.

"What the hell are you talking about—?!" Carl ceased his sentence with a frustrated sigh, before bolting his glare back towards Lizzie. "Okay, first of all, they don't talk, they don't think." Carl enumerated with his fingers. "They eat people! They kill people."

"People kill people." Lizzie shrugged. "They still have names."

"Have you seen what happens?" Carl said, his tone raising slightly. "Have you seen someone die like that?"

Lizzie's nostrils flared. "Yeah...I have."

"They're not people and they're not pets. Don't. Name them."

* * *

"What's your name?"

"...it's...Clara..."

Rick nodded, silently tasting the name on his tongue. He marched behind the woman, following her trail, their feet crunching dead leaves and sticks. Rick wondered if her appearance served as camouflage to the other walkers. Did they recognize her as a human or not? He didn't think she was a person when he first saw her, so maybe the walkers wouldn't as well. He hissed. _N'ah, can't be. _Lee and Clementine covered themselves in rotte entrails to escape Savannah, but they didn't look like walkers. The walkers probably discerned people from other zombies through smell, and not appearance.

He walked behind her. That perspective prevented him from getting stabbed in the back, and if there was an ambush, it would be easier to spot it. But he also kept a distance because that woman creeped him out a bit. Her hair was greasy and pitch black, her tattered trench coat was holed and grey, and her face was smeared with grey dust. She was just a grey, monochromatic human shadow. However her voice was sweet and ethereal, molded by an Irish accent. Her melodic voice was the only detail that made her seem like she a human, and not a walker.

"...we were going to Puerto Vallarta for our honeymoon." Clara said while stomping through the woods, her eyes facing the path ahead of her instead of the sheriff while she held the wrapped sandwich. "...when they shut down the airports, our connecting flight never...connected. They wouldn't let us leave the terminal, so...we slept next to these huge marble sculptures from Zimbabwe. Then, on the fourth night, the things just came through. There were a lot of us and...now it's just Edward and me. And I wouldn't have made it...if it wasn't for him."

Rick listened closely to her words, but refrained from replying or contributing to the conversation. She halted on the spot. Rick stopped, flashing a glance around him before Clara turned her gaze toward him. He looked back towards her freaky eyes, which sunk to the ground.

"...and it isn't that..." She sniffled, her voice becoming shakier and more uneven than it already was. "...he saved me over and over again or that he showed me the things that I, uh...had to do or...to be willing to do. If he wasn't still here...I..."

A lump on her throat made her choke on her words. Rick nodded, a simple confirmation that he registred what she was saying. She blinked repeatedly in a gesture to recompose herself, before turning back towards the woods and resuming her march. Rick followed after her.

"...I couldn't be. I...couldn't..."

Rick replayed her last sentences in his mind. _The things that I, uh...had to do or...to be willing to do._ "What were they?"

Clara glanced at him. "...what?"

"The things you had to be willing to do?"

"...hum...eating whatever we could find...animal carcasses and...rotten fruit and...leaving people behind...hiding from people who needed my help…unlike you…"

Rick clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "This is not charity. You have to have numbers. People are the best defense against walkers or people. We help each other."

Her voice trembled in what was intended to be a chuckle, but it just sounded like a throbbing breath.

"...you call them walkers...?"

Rick remained silent. He picked up the pace and walked alongside the woman, instead of walking behind her. "I saw those sculptures are the airport once. My favorite was the kids playing leapfrog."

Clara nodded. She exhaled, a smile absent from her lips. "...mine, too...what Edward and I had to do, did you do things like that?"

Rick kept his gaze anchored to the ground. He didn't say anything, ruffling through the memories of all of the blood that he had on his hands and the things that he had done. There were so many to remember that he felt that he had forgotten about some of them. It became easier to forget, especially when killing and making vile choices became a routine.

"...did you?"

Rick remained silent.

"...do you think you get to come back from them?"

Rick let out a sigh. "I hope so."

"...yeah…I hope we answer your three questions to your satisfaction."

* * *

The supermarket was surprisingly well-stocked. The shelves were furnished with a decent amount of canned and boxed food, perhaps enough to fill one of the vehicles. Besides the walker on the window, there were no other undead corpses inside, which allowed them to spread out within the dark store. Travis drove his shopping cart around the aisles, drifting around each corner as if he was drag-racing and shoving food containers into the cart. Ben followed at his heel, barely keeping up as his friend raced around the supermarket. His panicked gaze darted around them each time Travis made car noises with his mouth or pushed an item into the cart, which clanged against the metal.

"Could you please not be so loud?!" Ben shouted in whispers. "What if there are walkers around, waiting to get the drop on us?! You'll just bring them to us!"

Travis glanced at him, his visage weighed down by the words, _I don't give a fuck. _He turned back around and ran towards the end of the aisle they were in, and once he caught enough speed, he lifted his feet off the ground and braced himself up with the handle bar. He glided for a few seconds before he set his feet back down, slowing the cart to a halt.

"This feeling just doesn't grow old." Travis smiled as his eyes rolled around the lanky shelves around them.

"Which feeling? You riding the cart like a kid?" Ben deadpanned, uneasy with the thought of a walker creeping nearby and Travis drawing its attention to them with his behavior.

"N'ah, I mean, the feeling of having a place full of supplies for the taking and the freedom to do whatever the fuck you want."

Travis used his forearm to sweep a row of canned olives into the cart, which loudly clanked when they fell inside. Ben narrowed his eyebrows and groaned. Travis pushed the cart out of the aisle and proceeded to the next one. Ben sighed and chased after his friend. Travis scanned the shelves of the next aisle. Nothing but rows of bottles filled with alcohol. He looked up at the sign dangling off the ceiling. _Wine and Beer. _Ben folded his arms.

"C'mon, there's nothing useful here." Ben said, jostling his head towards the next aisle.

"Maybe, but there's nothing wrong with spoiling ourselves."

Ben rolled his eyes, hoping that the others were able to find decent amounts of supplies while Travis was joking around. Travis grabbed a wine bottle, and felt his hand touching a liquid. He examined the bottle, which was soaked in water. He looked at the other bottles and the shelves. They were moist. Water leaked from the weakened and irregular ceiling and dampened the wooden shelves. Travis ran his fingers on a shelf, and felt humidity beneath his fingertips. He looked back towards Ben, with the wine bottle in his hand.

"Hey, Ben, how about we get shit-faced later tonight?"

"How about we don't?"

"Wow, you certainly are fun to hang out with."

"Just put that back and let's go."

Travis exhaled through his nose and looked back at the bottle. He read the label. _Lindemans. _He didn't like alcohol and was just joking around, but his friend wasn't that good at playing along. _Good ol' Ben Paul. _He shrugged and slapped the bottle back on the shelf. The dank shelf broke off its brackets and slammed down onto the shelf below, shattering the bottles and spilling purple liquid onto the tiled floor. Travis staggered back, balancing himself atop the layer of slippery wine beneath his feet. He raised his head in a spasm towards the bottles that crashed one after the other in a domino effect. A wooden squeak petrified his body and made him jolt his gaze up. The two sets of shelves in front of him were falling towards him.

Ben watched the scene unfold before him like a statue, his jaw dropping and his eyelids spanning out. Travis let out a yell and rushed towards the shelf, butting his weight against it but the shelf rapidly slammed him to the floor, his ears drummed by the dissonance of chiming glass and wooden creaks. The shelves landed against a pile of beer creates, forming a chasm large enough for his body to fit. Travis huffed quick breaths into his lungs while he moved his arms around, tapping the floor for something to help him crawl away. He howled, his left arm burning with pain which clasped his eyes shut. He hissed and glanced at his forearm, where a glass shard had dug itself in. He wriggled his other arm around his body, his movement hindered by the shelf squashing him, and pulled out the shard with a wince, blood spurting from the wound.

"Fucking bitch!"

Ben dropped to a knee and glanced beneath the shelf towards his trapped friend. "Oh, crap! D—dude, a—are you okay?!"

"The hell it looks to you?!" Travis growled between teeth, looking back towards his friend.

Travis clawed away, but his foot didn't budge. He looked down at his leg and moved it around, but it wasn't budging. _Shit. _The shelf was pinning his leg down. He slammed his fist against the wet floor, that reeked of wine. His heart ached from the pain on his forearm and the soreness on his leg, his breaths rapid and audible. _What if walkers show up?! _The dreadful question made him hold his breath. He pictured himself trapped in there like an animal, while walkers show up and force his friends to run away and leave him behind, to be gnawed by the living dead.

Ben straightened and ran his fingers down his hair, mumbling the same word under his breath. _Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_ His heartbeat pounded in the capillars in his temples. _No! No! This can't be happening! There's gotta be a way! _He had to do something to help him, but his thoughts were blocked out by the panic. He didn't have an idea on what to do. He balled his hands into fists but he forbore the wish to punch himself. _Do something! _He remained still. Why couldn't he just step up and help someone for once?!

Daryl, Lee, Kenny and Merle rushed to the two teenagers. Ben released an alleviated breath. Now that the others were there, maybe they could do something and nobody had to pay for his incompetence. They knew what to do. Daryl squatted down, beaming a flashlight into the chasm between the floor and the shelves.

"You alright? You cut or something?"

"I cut my arm, but it doesn't matter, man! My f—foot's stuck." Travis said, his voice quaking.

"Alright, he's caught. C'mon, help me get this up."

Merle skimmed their rear and their flanks with fast glances. _No biters for now._ Ben backed away and folded his arms, letting them do their work. His agonized gaze collapsed to the floor and the fire of shame heated up his spine. Daryl, Lee and Kenny placed their hands on the first shelf and lifted it up to its normal position. Travis propped himself up with his elbow, now being free from the waist up. Lee looked down at the teenager, gazing at the bleeding on his forearm and the leg that was stuck.

"Man, you lucked out. If this thing had come on you the wrong way—"

Cracking styrofoam echoed above their heads. Their eyes arose to the ceiling. A walker crashed through the panels overhead, suspended by its guts on rebars and swinging around like a trapeze artist gracefully dangling. Daryl, Lee, Ben, Kenny and Merle backed away from the hanging walker, its blood dripping from its innards and splooshing onto the floor. Travis's muscles turned to ice, his sweaty eyes fixated on the hanging walker. _Oh, shit. _The walkers were coming, and he was stuck. The dangling biter reached for the humans below, illuminated by sunlight as if it were an angel descended from the heavens.

"We gotta haul ass, right now!" Merle commanded, his eyes locked on the suspended biter.

"Travis is still stuck!" Daryl said. "We gotta get him—"

Another walker dived through the ceiling with a crash, colliding with a pile of water bottle packs. And yet a third one penetrated into the store through the roofing, collapsing on the tiled flooring with a smack. Their gazes darted in jolts around them, eyeing each walker that crashed into the store, one after the other. Travis looked down at his leg, kicking away from the shelf with frustrated grunts. But it didn't budge. It didn't fucking budge. His brain started to turn dazy from adrenaline, his breaths barely keeping up with the pace of his drumming heart. He turned towards his friends, the veins on neck dilated. They were distancing themselves from him, dashing into different aisles to avoid the falling zombies.

"Hey. Hey!" Travis yelled at the top of his lungs.

* * *

"See that little branch? It ain't doing no good for the plant. So you break it off and plant it somewhere else."

Omid processed Hershel's instructions and nodded, snapping off a lengthy branch from a tomato vine. He excavated a small hole next to the vine, and planted the branch inside. He covered it with dirt, rooting the branch to the soil. Omid sketched a proud grin. He imagined himself in the near future, eating the tomatoes that he himself had farmed and worked for. A novel sentiment, since ever since the turn, nobody had eaten anything that didn't come from a tin-can.

"Good." Hershel nodded, kneeled next to the short man with a simper. "The vegetables you've been farming are coming along quite good. I think you've got a knack for this."

Omid smiled. "Never saw myself as a farmer. Y'know, city boy and all."

"Seems like you might've found a new talent in yourself."

"Well, I didn't do all the work."

Omid yanked his head towards the other men tending to the crops – Axel, Billy and Vince. Axel was shirtless, his skin oiled with sweat, a headband keeping the liquid away from his eyes. Omid leaned on his knee, looking down at his soaked t-shirt. They were all bleeding water through their pores, even though the sun wasn't too intense. But no matter the weather, they needed to work on those crops - digging in the dirt, planting seeds and branches, tending to the vines. Omid glanced past his shoulder. Christa sat on a lawnchair at the top of the slope, her belly swollen beneath her jacket like a speedbump. She flashed him a distant smile, watching him labor.

"With Christa pregnant, I'm not too fond of going out on runs." Omid said. "She wouldn't like it if I was out there, risking my life. I wouldn't, either. I don't know if I should feel this way, but it feels selfish to do that. Everybody needs to contribute, and it doesn't feel like I am bringing anything to the table."

"A child needs a father. And Christa needs you." Hershel said. "You're doing the right thing, Omid. You are contributing. The produce you're growing here will feed everyone for days. We'll be stuffed from all the food we'll have to eat to prevent it from spoiling."

Omid flashed him a smile, humbly lowering his head. Hershel got up and stepped towards the other vines, verifying that the other farmers were doing their work properly. Omid turned towards Christa, beckoning at her with a broad simper. Christa yelled at him. "I'm not seeing enough hard work, baby! Keep at it!"

Omid chuckled, shaking his head as he returned to his task. "I swear to God, she loves seeing me sweat and tire."

"Heh. Cherish the fact that she has to carry that baby around all the time." Vince said.

Axel wiped his forehead, bathing his forearm with sweat. "I'm sweatin' bullets, here. You follow me?"

"Hard to figure out which month we're on." Hershel said. "Feels like we could be in August. Feels like we could be in October."

"Feels like hell." Billy said.

"Don't trivialize the lake of fire, boy." Hershel frowned. "This here is far from the most painful thing you can possibly imagine. It's not a joke, Billy. It's not funny. It's not something a son of mine will joke about. Understand?"

"Uh, y—yeah, dad. Sorry."

Vince snorted, glancing at Hershel. "You're still brainwashed by all that religious mumbo-jumbo?"

Hershel stiffened his frown, holding back a sneer. "It's not brainwashing. And I would not have you refering to it as such."

"Look, I'm just saying, why would you believe that a god exists with those walking corpses eating and killing people?"

"Why wouldn't I? Way I see it, Christ promised us the resurrection of the dead, and he came through just like he prophesied. My faith isn't faltering just because things get hard." Hershel smiled, his eyes flicking skywards. "Vince, my faith has never been stronger. And yours should too."

Vince sighed. "Whatever."

Hershel got on his feet with a sigh. He tried, at least. "I'mma go check on the piglets. You know what to do, right?"

The four men nodded. The old veterinarian turned around and limped towards the pig pen, the hinges on his prosthetic leg screeching. Omid curled his stomach, hearing it growl. The hard work always left him hungry, making him fantasize about chocolate and sugary treats, food that unfortunately were rare nowadays, and there were none in stock at the prison. Even though those snacks were relics of the old world, they still lingered in his thoughts.

"I could go for a candy bar right now." Omid said. "These fresh veggies are nice and all, but I miss those tasty calories. Add some candy and this place would be fucking heaven."

"Hmph. Yeah." Billy said. "Candy bars and girls too. We're certainly lackin' in that department. Every girl around here is either taken or my sister."

Vince chuckled. "You're a countryboy, so your sisters are still a valid choice."

Billy rolled his eyes. "Fuck off, Vince."

"If you're so desperate, might as well go for Carol. Single mother, she'd be great for you."

"Hey, don't encourage him to steal another man's game, you follow me?" Axel smiled, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Axel. She's outta my age range anyways." Billy said, rubbing his chin as he contemplated the horizon. "Hmm. Maybe I could go for Molly."

"Pfft, n'ah." Axel shook his head. "Too old for a little boy like you."

"Maybe if I grow a mustache..."

"Then instead 'a lookin' like a little boy, you'll look like a little boy with a mustache. And you been nursin' that stubble for weeks now, ain't nothing more gonna come out, you follow me?"

"There is always Lilly..." Omid proposed with a sadistic smirk.

"Christ, fuck no." Billy said, his eyes bulging. "She's an ice queen. I feel like she'd stab me if I pissed her off the slightest."

* * *

Andrea and Tyreese faced off in the basketball field in the courtyard, laughing and smiling as they tried to duck around each other with the ball. Dale watched the match from the sidelines, sitting on a lawnchair with his arms folded in front of his chest. His eyes narrowed tighter each time they neared one another, or they exchanged an occasional pat on the shoulder. The ordeal started innocent enough, with hellos and smiles, but it appeared that the two now spent quite some time in each other's company. Sure, Tyreese was taken, but maybe Andrea no longer felt like being around him and preferred the company of a lively stallion. Molly walked up to him, her eyes riveted to the blonde woman.

"Hey, Andrea, we're still gonna sharpshoot or what?" Molly asked, loud enough so she could hear.

"Just let me score one more time!" Andrea smiled, her back turned towards Tyreese as she dribbled the ball.

Molly rolled her eyes with a half-smile. She turned towards Dale. "What's with the long face, old man? Things are too good for you to be looking so grim."

"Yeah, yeah, things are good..." Dale said with a nod and sarcasm riddling his tone. "Let's see how long that lasts."

Molly curved her eyebrows, unsure of the reason behind the man's attitude. Maybe it was just the typical, senile grumpiness that resides within the elderly. She followed his line of sight towards the two people playing basketball, but more precisely, he was staring at Tyreese. She chuckled and looked back at Dale.

"Please, Dale. That woman adores you. You're worrying too much. Andrea isn't that basic."

"Riiiight, because I'm so young and vital..."

"Look, you do know Tyreese is with Karen, right?"

"Yes, but what about all the other young, single guys in this prison?"

"Pfft, like who?"

"I dunno. Vince. Or maybe Lee."

Molly snorted, shaking her head at the mention of Lee. The man was truly delusional if he thought Andrea would want something with someone like Vince. Andrea skidded around Tyreese but he snatched the ball from her, racing towards her hoop and scoring his throw. The two playfully argued back and forth, while Tyreese grabbed his t-shirt from the ground and Andrea headed towards her friend and grabbed her sniper rifle off the ground.

"C'mon, Andrea, I'm ready to go shoot some fucking geeks." Molly said.

"I think I could use the practice, too. Been getting rusty."

Andrea kissed Dale on the cheek, who remained stoic to the gesture. Andrea strolled away. Molly waited for her to be out of earshot before leaning closer to the old man.

"Drive yourself crazy if you want, old man. You're wrong."

* * *

"...it's just ahead…"

Rick perked up at the statement as he and Clara stepped into a clearing. His wary senses had been dulled by the boring walk and the conversation, but now he had his eyes peeled once more, his instincts latent yet prepared for a fight if it was necessary. There was an encampment within the clearing, composed of an open tent, large enough for two people. There were a few empty boxes positioned around the tent, one of them containing a bloated burlap sack. But there weren't any supplies in sight. It truly seemed like the woman lived off of nothing. Clara dashed towards the crate with the burlap sack, with desperate and sloppy footsteps. Rick fastened his narrowed eyes on her. She fell on her knees in front of the sack.

"...Edward...oh, thank God you're still here...this is Rick...he's gonna help us..."

Rick narrowed his eyelids. _Shit._ The woman appeared miserable, sure, but her mental health didn't seem to have deteriorated. At least, when he met her. But now she was on her knees, talking to a burlap sack, calling it by her husband's name. Maybe she was indeed too far gone. But Rick decided to give her the benefit of the doubt for now. There was a time where he was talking to imaginary voices on the phone. Everyone got a little crazy at times. But his spine remained stiff nonetheless. Something seemed off about her.

"…everything's gonna be okay...everything..."

Rick felt his heart being pinched for a split second, before his body was drained of any emotion. He glanced inside the tent. Two sleeping bags. A metallic _shlink_ echoed nearby. Rick spun towards Clara, who rushed towards him with her knife raised above her head. He dodged her and shoved her to the ground, making the woman gnarl. She rolled on the grass while Rick whipped out his revolver, his lips twisting with disdain.

"Dammit!"

Clara propped herself off the ground, before letting herself drop back down, breaking down into sobs with her face planted into the grass. Rick towered next to the woman, his index finger limp on the trigger while he aimed the handgun down at her. He seethed a breath in. She tried to kill him. And he had always answered that kind of behavior with a bullet. But she was just a sick animal, shattered and battered. She wasn't even trying to get back up and attack him. It felt sickeningly easy to just pull the trigger.

"...I wanted to take the boar..." Clara mumbled between cries as she slowly rose to her knees, her eyes flickering up at the man standing in front of her, his gun glaring at her. "I just knew...I knew I'd get you here so much quicker...he's starving! He's slowing...he needs something alive!"

Rick glanced towards the burlap sack. The tissue was lined with the contours of a sphere, that was hollowed with two aligned holes, along with something gently moving at the bottom. Similar to..._jaws._ And those two holes were similar to eye sockets. He widened his eyes, which lost focus as he flitted them to the ground.

"...please...I told you I couldn't be without him...it was wrong! I can't do things like this...and—and you have to do things like this...let me be like him! Don't stop it...don't end it after."

Rick tilted his head to the side, quizzically raising his eyesbrows. Clara tightened her clutch on her knife. Rick darted his gaze towards her weapon. She held the blade with both hands, aiming it at her stomach. Rick held his breath, his body paralyzing while he involuntarily shook his head.

"No..."

"…let me be with him..."

Rick lurched forward. "No!"

Clara drove the blade into her stomach. Rick bent his knees to prevent himself from crumbling, his face constraining as if he felt a parcel of her pain. Clara's visage froze while dark blood oozed from her midsection, her breath vacuumed out through her lips. She collapsed on the ground. The barrel of Rick's gun careened up and down from his quivering grip, his eyes welling with tears. He sniffled and paced around, raising his pistol in a frustrated jerk before sheathing it his holster and squatting near the woman. He sniffled again, the sorrowful tension in his visage thawing and the tears in his eyes evaporating. Clara's torso ballooned with stuttering breaths, her eyes staring into a void. Her limp fingers were wrapped around the knife that was stuck in her abdomen. Rick looked down at the woman with his lip hanging low, rubbing his temple with his fingers.

"Hey..."

"...what were...the questions…" She hiccuped between words. "...the three q...questions..."

Rick drew a breath. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"…Ed...Edwa...killed...killed them all...until..."

She left her sentence incomplete. Rick dropped on the grass, connecting his lips to his cold, curled fingers as a bead of sweat streamed down his nose. "How many people have you killed?"

"...just me...just...me..."

"...Why?"

"...you don't...you don't get…to come back...you don't get...to come back...from...things...you don't..."

Her eyes fluttered closed while her body quaked with each hiccup, her jaw trembling with each breath. Her stammering exhales turned softer and less frequent, until they turned silent and her jaw stopped moving. A final spasm whisked her jaw one last time and expelled the remains of oxygen from her lungs. Rick released a shaky breath, closing his eyes. He wiped his wet brow with his hand. He glanced towards the burlap sack, which waved around slightly from the moving jaws. He grabbed the sandwich from Clara's pocket and walked back the way he came from, with a faint sting in his heart.

* * *

_With his back against the wall and a swarm of walkers ganging __up __on him, it wasn't sure that he was getting out of this one alive. Ben had a bad feeling towards Savannah since the moment that they stepped into those desolate streets, foggy and vacant like a ghost town. They had neglected the fact that the dead roam every street, awaiting to ambush them. And now they were shambling in from every avenue and boulevard, boxing __the group in the streets._

_Why did he have to end up in that situation? Ben glued his spine to a brick wall, while he stared into the face of death. However death was incarnated by the six walkers surrounding him and Clementine. Their crooked teeth snapp__ed__ and their growls spira__led__ out of their throats in putrid breaths. He wanted to run away, but the electric_ _fear stunning him kept him paralyzed. Clementine cowered next to him, her eyes bulging as she tried to hide away from the walkers behind the teenager. But he wasn't seeing her. He didn't see anything, asides from the limping corpses that were going to end his life, his eyes glowing and on the brim of tears._

_"Ben! Help her!"_

_Carley's voice snapped him out of his deathly trance. He looked towards the woman, who stood in the middle of the intersection with Lee. Beyond them, the rest of the goup was battling through packs of walkers. __Daryl drove an arrow through a walker's head, with Rick by his side, who hammered bullets through the barrel of his revolver._ _Lee and Carley had their expanded gazes fixated on __Ben__, shouting at him __with their eyes__ to do something. He had to run away. It was clear now. __Ben __glanced towards the little girl, who looked up at him with eyes beseeching to be rescued. That glow in her __ey__es told him that she counted on him. She counted on him, a pathetic piece of crap who did nothing but get people killed. __Who got Katjaa and Duck killed._

_Ben wanted to reach for her, grab her wrist and run away. But his arms could not move, __as if any movement would instantly kill him. His instincts told him one thing only. _Run._ Thus, only his legs were unaffected by the paralysis. He closed his eyes until his eyelids hurt and he shook his head, before sprinting through an opening between the walkers. He lowered his head and he just ran, repressing every other thought in his mind, that prickled him with guilt, urging him to go back for the little girl. Lee screamed something at him, but his locked mindset made his words unintelligible to him. __He was just running, his mind a clusterfuck of mixed thoughts, but they were all suppressed by the instinct of running away. __He had left a little girl to be devoured by the walkers. __An eight-year-old might die because of him. But he ran away. He chickened out and proved himself to be a coward once more that gets people killed. But he just r__a__n away._

Run, _he repeated to himself. _Run. Run. Run.

* * *

_Run. Run. Run. Run._

Ben thundered towards the entrance of the supermarket in a sprint. He hopped over a fallen walker that slumped on the floor. He didn't stop. His tensed legs carried him to the door, where his eyes were riveted. Gunshots lit up the store in synchronization with the belly-flopping walkers, who were still penetrating the frail ceiling. The others were fighting off the walkers, trying to get to Travis, but he wasn't. The pathway to the front door was engraved in his mind, and he was following it with his footfalls. His lungs felt dry and stung him every time he took a breath, but he didn't stop.

He repressed every other thought in his mind. He was prickled with guilt, that urged him to go back for his friend. But those thoughts were suppressed by the instinct of running away. His friend with whom he had endured so much might die because of him. But he was running away. He chickened out and proved himself to be a coward once more that gets people killed. But he just ran away.

The front door showed up in front of him. He slowed down to a halt, a few feet away from it. His eyes flicked towards the floor. The exit was there, and he could just waltz outside into safety. But his legs didn't want to move. _No. _He squeezed his handgun tighter, with both hands, and glanced past his shoulder towards the muzzle flashes lighting up the store and the walkers shambling amidst the aisles. _No. _It couldn't be like before. He couldn't just run away this time around. Too much guilt weighed on his hands, and this time it was stronger than his instincts.

He took a deep breath and counted to three, before jogging back into the main corridor of the supermarket. Daryl was on the further end of the store, standing atop a pile of crates and firing his revolver at a trio of walkers surrounding him. Travis was half-screaming and half-sobbing as he desperately scratched the soaked floor to pull his leg away. Ben targeted him with his gaze and jogged in his direction. There was an itch behind his neck, from the sensation that a zombie would imminently leap out at him. A walker with its entrails missing from its carved stomach shambled out from an aisle, locking its hollowed gaze on Ben. He flinched as if a needle had stung him from the startle, but he slowed down and lined up his shot, smashing the trigger several times. The bullets flied around the walker, until one of them struck the dead corpse in the forehead. He fired an additional loose round out of instinct, before dashing towards his friend. Travis looked up at him with his eyes shimmering, his face flushed red.

"Ben?!"

"D—don't worry, I—I—I—"

Ben shut himself up - he was too nervous to say anything coherent. He needed to shut up and focus. He bent down and grabbed the shelf, applying all of his strength to lift it. He grunted, his closed eyes facing the ceiling. The fucking thing wasn't budging. He kept investing his power into it, his groans becoming more embittered at each failed attempt. He paused for a second, opening his eyes. His jaw dropped. Through the hole in the ceiling, a destroyed helicopter was visible, its beak facing the interior of the building. The crashed vehicle chirred as it slowly drilled the roof.

Ben felt his blood turn to ice. Adrenaline pumped into his veins. A fucking helicopter was going to crash down on him. He looked back down and tried to pull up the shelf again with desperate yanks, his vocal cords hurting from the strained growls that he gurgled. He raised the shelf about half an inch, but his slender arms couldn't lift it any higher. Travis squirmed with violent jerks and wedged his leg out. He laid back on the floor, moving his freed leg around in the air as a cold chill bathed his body, and an inevitable chuckle escaped his lips. He was free. Ben let go of the shelf.

"Get up, quick!"

Travis nodded and hoisted himself onto his feet. Daryl and Merle appeared behind the teenagers, backing up towards them. Daryl shoved six rounds into the slots in his cylinder while Merle fired a spree of projectiles towards the incoming walkers. Kenny regrouped with them alongside Lee, who swung his blade in a circular motion and cleaved through the skull of a walker, splitting its face in two fleshy halves. He looked up towards the hole on the ceiling. The edifice trembled as the helicopter caved further in.

"We gotta go, now!"

Lee sprinted towards the exitway, the others chasing after him. Ben took a step forward, but his ankle was chained back. He staggered to regain his balance, almost slipping on the spilled wine. Travis halted a few meters away from his friend, looking past his shoulder to see what had stopped him. A walker had clambered from beneath the fallen shelf and gotten a hold of Ben, its teeth wrapping around his ankle.

Ben yanked his foot back and released a continuous yell. He aimed his gun down and emptied five bullets in the walker's direction with a loose grip on the handgun. The fourth bullet drilled into the cranium of the walker, making its head fall to the floor while its fingers slackened around Ben's ankle. The teenager jumped away from the dead walker, his arms shaking and the gun slipping from his hand. Travis grasped Ben by the sleeve and dragged him away towards the exit.

The helicopter sank into the store with a deafening cacophony of squeaks and clatters, bombing the ruins of the building with a cloud of dust. Travis and Ben leaped into the exterior of the supermarket, being pushed by the shockwave of the impact.

* * *

_Blam!_

The bullet pierced the cranium of a lonely walker limping near the treeline, its body joining the dirt and the grass. Andrea cocked her rifle, a cartridge ejecting from the barrel. Molly crossed her arms and stretched out her lips with a raised brow. _Not bad. _With her rifle laying on the railing of the tower, Andrea moved it to the left and scanned for another target. Her motions were precise and her body barely shook from the kickback. She sent out another bullet Another distant, ant-sized walker crumbled to the ground.

"Were you a goddamned hitwoman before the geeks came?" Molly said.

Andrea chuckled, shaking her head while she stared down the scope. "I was a clerk at a law firm."

Molly exhaled between teeth. "Bullshit!"

"It's the honest, boring truth." Andrea said, looking at her. "What about you? Were you a ninja before all this?"

"Please, all I did was climb some buildings back in Savannah. You don't need to be a ninja to do that."

"Hmm, I suppose you're right. And ninjas use nunchunks and not pickaxes." Andrea chuckled, fixating a walker on the road. "Hey, think you can take that one down?"

Molly glanced at the walker that she was eyeing. "That one? Easy pick."

"Fine, prove it." Andrea smiled, passing the rifle onto her hands.

"What do you wanna bet?" Molly asked, as she angled her body and propped the rifle against the railing.

Andrea looked at the back pocket of her jeans. "How about that chocolate bar you got in your pocket? I've been eyeing it for five minutes now."

"Fine, you've got a deal."

Molly stiffened her muscles and lined up the shot, aligning the crossed sights with the walker's skull, a notch above to compensate for gravity. She hadn't used guns very often, usually relying on Hilda but she didn't think she was too bad. She had used the rifle when she snuck into Woodbury with the others, but she only managed to shoot one guy. At almost point-blank range. With her target in place, she pressed the trigger. The recoil kicked her back and the bullet struck the designated walker in the collarbone, making it stumble backwards.

"Ha! What'd I tell you?" Molly smirked at the other woman.

Andrea raised an eyebrow. "I said you'd win if you'd take it down. You didn't take it down."

"Oh, now you're just splitting hairs." Molly said as she grabbed the chocolate bar and tossed it at Andrea. "Here you go, fatty."

Andrea's smile faltered and she looked down at her waistline. "C'mon, don't be mean. I'm not fat."

* * *

Travis and Ben slumped on the rear of the pickup truck that drove them back home. Once the adrenaline rush was over, there was only an intense exhaustion that sweeped over their muscles. Their bodies were limp and their muscles throbbed with the bumps on the road. Their drowsy eyes wafted about the blurry trees that passed them by. Travis clutched the gash on his arm, his sleeve drenched in blood. He let himself relax. Things had been heated enough for a day, and he just wanted to drop back and be taken back home. He unzipped his jacket which was drenched in wine and looked at the garment, flashes of his highschool life bleeding into his memory. He tossed the jacket over the side of the truck, watching it glide away.

"Hey, Ben?" Travis mumbled while he dropped back against the cab of the truck.

"Yeah?" Ben groggily replied, the two friends keeping their gazes focused on the blurred horizon.

"You know all those times I saved your ass? I guess we're even now."

"Hmph." Ben shrugged. "Yeah."

The truck began slowing down. Travis and Ben remained zoned out, their bodies too sluggish to react. But then the truck came to a full stop. Travis sighed. _Suppose I should see what this is about. _He mustered his strengths and adjusted his seating position, his face constraining, before he glanced past his shoulder with the entirety of his forces.

"Hey, why did you—?"

He left his sentence hanging in the air. Merle had his opened hand in the air, a signal to stop. The riverbank next to the road was littered with cadavers, scattered around the water. Travis gulped – he didn't remember seeing those dead bodies when they were heading to the Big Spot. He did a quick headcount. A dozen dead people or so laid on the grass. Lee, Kenny and Daryl stepped out of their respective vehicles. Travis thought about letting them investigate it and waiting in the truck, but he needed to know how those corpses got there. He got off the truck with a leaden hop. Ben watched the others approach the corpses while he remained seated on the truck.

"What the hell is this?" Kenny said, his eyebrows narrowing.

Travis shrugged as he squeezed his lips, while holding onto his injury. "A bunch'a dead guys."

"Keep a lookout." Merle said. "If someone wanted t'ambush us, they would'a blocked the road with the bodies, but y'never know."

Kenny nodded and turned his gaze to the forest around them, scanning the foliage. Daryl walked closer to the bodies. Their skin was white, unlike a walker's, and there were bulletholes in their foreheads. Daryl squatted down next to a dead man and touched the blood oozing from his head.

"Blood's dry, but pretty fresh. This was recent."

"Fuck...who the hell could have done this?" Lee said with a puckered forehead.

"I know a certain Southern gentleman capable 'a this." Merle said.

Daryl looked around the dead body, his eyes landing on a bullet casing. He picked it up and neared it to his eyes. "This ain't from an M4. Looks like an AK shell t'me. Couldn't have been him."

"These people don't have anything on them." Lee said. "Whoever killed them must've taken their stuff. We ought'a take a quick look around, see if we find anything else."

Lee, Daryl, Merle and Travis dispersed around the corpses, peeking around for clues or something of value left behind. Travis towered over a dead guy who laid on his stomach, his skull imploded into crimson mush. He had a leather jacket with the name of a band on the back. _Plastic __Toys__. _

"Hmm. Looks pretty sick."

Travis squatted down and grabbed the back of the jacket. He pulled back the garment and the dead man's arms slid out from the sleeves, falling against the ground with a thud. _I do need a new jacket._ Travis held the article of clothing in front of him, looking for blood stains. _None. _He sniffed the tissue. _Doesn't smell like dead guy. _He draped the jacket onto his torso, inserting his arms into his sleeves with pain prickling his left one. He smiled as he looked down at his physique. The leather gave him a sixties vibe and made his chest appear bulkier, even though the jacket was oversized for him and sagged off of him. He sketched a confident grin. _I don't care if grave-digging is morbid, I'm taking this._

"I wonder, who do I have to thank for such a badass attire?"

Travis crouched near the man and fished into his pocket. He felt a wallet and slid it out. He opened it and found an ID card. He inspected it, looking at the man's name and his photo. Travis chuckled - the guy looked way different when his face wasn't disfigured by a bullet.

"Thanks for the jacket, Roman. You had one hell of a fashion sense."

"I don't think there's anything relevant around here." Lee hooted to the others. "Let's just get the hell outta here and head on home."

* * *

Rick marched towards the pig pen, a bucket of plants and worms in his gloved hand. He hurled the murky contents into a trough, and the four piglets scurried towards the feeder with happy squeals. He watched them eat for a moment, until the absence of the fifth pig turned his eyes to the spot where Violet was laying earlier. She was still there, stretched on her side. However her body wasn't moving and her stomach wasn't inching in breaths. He sighed, his gaze eventually shifting towards the walkers. Most of the ones from that morning were still there. He recognized their faces. He recognized the same goatee walker with the crimson eyeballs clawing at the fence, tears of blood running down its cheeks.

Merle speeded into the dirt road on his motorcycle. Rick jerked his head towards the entryway, as the Hyundai and the pickup truck showed up being the leading vehicle. Rick jogged towards the gate and opened it, permitting the convoy to pass through. He hurriedly shut the gate and hurtled towards Lee. He glanced at the two teenagers. They were still alive, at least. And Travis was wearing a brand new leather jacket that was too big for him. _Heh._ Lee poked his head out of the window.

"How'd it go?" Rick asked.

"Could've been worse." Lee said. "The place collapsed to ruins, couldn't get anything out. But thankfully we didn't lose anyone. Got pretty close to it."

* * *

Daryl groaned while sitting on the perch stairs. The shoulder of his winged vest had torn off from the earlier scuffle. Those walkers were everywhere in that store. One of them latched onto him, and ripped the tissue. He folded the torn tissue over his shoulder, as if he expected the garment to regenerate. Lilly clanged down the stairs and sat next to him, the bags under her eyes paling with the moonlight. Daryl glanced at her lap, where she had a needle and some fishing line.

"You also know how to stitch up vests?" Daryl asked.

"Way easier than stiching up people." Lilly said.

Lilly slid the line through the hole of the needle. Daryl stared ahead of him while Lilly dug the needle into the tissue and pulled the string through it. Daryl felt the pulls on his shoulder as she connected the two edges of torn tissue.

"Can't believe you fucked up your Sunday best." Lilly chuckled without a smile. "The store must've been chaotic."

"Walkers, just dropping through the ceiling. Chopper crashed through, razed the whole place." Daryl said. "Damned walker got a hold 'a me."

* * *

The moon hypnotized Rick, who stared towards the distant satellite that glowed in the midst of constellations and interstellar void. The moonlight bathed the cell block, but it was bright enough to see well in the darkness. He craddled Judith in his arms and sometimes clicked his tongue in a kissing sound, however his visage was far from tender, and was rather disturbed by the events of the day. Hershel sat close to him in the visitor's room, after having heard what he told him about Clara. About the words that had stuck around in his mind. _You can't come back from things._

"You tried to help her." Hershel said, his tone insistant but compassionate. "You couldn't. Nobody could. Some people are too far gone. You're not. You tried to help her."

"How that woman wound up..." Rick said, turning his eyes towards Hershel before glancing at his baby girl. "I got close to that. If I lost Carl, Judith, if I lost this place—"

"Not then, Rick. Not even then. You came back. Your boy came back. You get to come back. You do."

* * *

Eddie breathed out as he pulled his jacket tighter over his torso. His legs dangled down from the ledge of the eastern watchtower, the sky now sheeted in penumbra. The chilly night kept his eyes rigid, ridding him of any fatigue. He stared towards the huddled walkers by the fence. There were maybe a dozen. Even after cleaning them out, more of them always came. Watching them knocking on the fences during the night was spookier. The night impeded Eddie from seeing them, and the only sign that they were actually there was their groans and the tinkling chainlink.

The council wanted someone to keep an eye on the hordes during the night, since they had been coming at an irregular rhythm, and he decided to volunteer in order to help around. He still had a long way to earn his bed and food there, and that might have been a good start. The council had even talked about maybe letting a few walkers pile up around the fences to scare away any invaders, but keeping an eye on them was still necessary.

Eddie heard someone climb up the tower, two people considering the clunks of the footsteps. He turned around. Axel and Vince showed up next to him.

"Oh, hey." Eddie said. "I don't think my shift's over yet."

"Yeah, we know." Axel said. "Vince and me aren't exactly hard-sleepers, y'know? Thought we'd relieve you early."

Eddie shrugged. "I'm not feeling like sleeping right now."

Axel nodded and sat next to the beanie-wearing man. Vince quickly imitated, sitting beside them. "I was scoping out the perimeter this morning. It looks like those dead things are drawn a lot to sound. The fences on the back and on the sides don't even have a single walker. But they're always there at the front."

"I thought it was common knowledge that they're attracted to noise." Eddie said.

"You know, I haven't spent as much time around them as everyone else. A month ago, I was locked away in the cafeteria with Axel and a few other inmates. We were in there since the turn."

"Wait..." Eddie said, stretching out his eyelids. "You and Axel were inmates here?"

"Yeah. I robbed a store and Vince got in here for murder." Axel said.

Eddie chuckled, looking at Vince. "You didn't toss babies into a river, I hope."

"Yes, I did."

Eddie lowered his jaw, his gaze locked on the Asian man. Vince rolled his eyes with a faint smile.

"It was a joke."

"Oh."

"But then Rick and his people arrived and set us free. We didn't roll with them at first. And I didn't wanna. I didn't like this place. I didn't want to roll with such a big crew of people I didn't even know."

"Damn, I don't see how anyone wouldn't enjoy this place."

"I knew this place when our cell doors were locked all the time and we were kept in cuffs. That's all I saw. That and a bunch of people who wanted to come into our home uninvited. If Andrew had told me about their plan at the time...I think I would've been on their side."

Axel chuckled. "Yeah, right. You ended up shooting him between the eyes."

Vince snorted. "I didn't really have a choice. Daryl was aiming a crossbow at me. But that doesn't matter. Rick came around. And look at this place nowadays. I fucking love this place. I'll fucking fight for it, if it ever comes to that."

* * *

Ben seesawed back and forth on his bed, his face buried into his hands. Within the obscurity of his palms, there were the flashes of the undead corpses surrounding him from every side, the way that he moved sloppily and without thinking, the maddened strength that he used to raise the shelf pinning Travis, the walker snatching his ankle and the explosion of crashes as the chopper plunged into the store. _It was too close. Too close._ Being so close to the other side tormented him. It was something he just couldn't get used to. The thought that a miscalculated step would have a totally different outcome. The weight of that thought was jabbed him into his chest, and it seemed impossible to remove it.

"Hey."

Ben raised his head. Kenny stood by the entrance. He expected to receive a lecturing from him, but he wasn't shooting him a sharp glare like he foresaw him doing. Kenny glanced towards the floor, before turning back to the teenager.

"You did good, kiddo."

Ben gulped. "You...you mean that?"

Kenny nodded, his pride rendering his nod half-hearted. "I do. You didn't get us killed and you got out of there alive. Saved Travis, too. So, yeah. Don't be so fidgety."

"Yeah, sorry..." Ben lowered his head, while rubbing his legs. "It's just...everytime I come close to dying, it always phases me for a while...it's intense...knowing you could've died right there and then..."

"Hopefully, you'll grow desensitized to it."

"Thanks, Kenny. I didn't...I didn't expect you to...you know."

Kenny sighed. "We ain't friends. But we gon' be livin' under the same roof for a while. And we can't be resentin' each other forever."

* * *

_What a fucking day._ Travis dragged himself across the cell block, his feet scraping the ground. He felt lightheaded, his mind somewhat distant from his softened body, his eyes squinting but fixated on the cell at the end of the block. He held his bare wound shut with his hand, his forearm sheeted with crispy blood. Once he found himself on a bed, he would drop into a comatose for a day. But before that, there was something on his mind that he had to do. Something he had anticipated ever since he barely escaped that supermarket and left a tickle in his heart.

He stopped in the doorway of the cell he was headed towards. His lips flourished into a bright smile, that was crooked by the pain on his arm and the cramps battering his muscles. Beth laid on her floral-pattern bed, stomach down while scribbling on a diary. _Hope she's writing about me in there. _Travis stared at her for a moment, relishing those instants where she didn't notice him standing there. Her face was dead-serious as she wrote down her entry. The small revolver tucked in the backpocket of her jeans, beneath her holed, beige blouse, was quite fitting for her – tiny, almost looking delicate and inoffensive.

Travis leaned against the doorpost. His shadow swept over Beth, which made her raise her head. Her lips widened upwards. Travis lowered his head with a grin. The day wasn't over yet, and he couldn't be sure that he would wake up alive the next day. After the supermarket almost crashed down on him, that was crystal clear. He had to see Beth before going to sleep, the only moment where he was sure that he would get to see her. He could get mauled by a walker during his sleep, for all he knew. He tried to think up of a joke or a one-liner to say, but the fatigue drowned his thoughts, only filtering in those regarding the blonde girl.

"Knock, knock." Travis grumbled with frailty in his voice, while he rubbed his tired eyes.

Beth lowered her eyes to his crimson forearm. His left sleeve was rolled back, and he was clutching his hurt arm like a dog with a broken paw. Her smile dimmed out, and her eyes quickly scanned him for other injuries. She released a breath. He appeared to be okay, despite the bleeding gash on his forearm. She looked at the saggy, leather jacket he was wearing. She let out a chuckle as her eyes dropped back on her diary pages.

"You look cute in that."

Travis laughed, an uncontrollable grin dominating his lips. "Y'know, my arm's a little fucked here. Don't suppose you could patch me up."

Beth bit her lip and let out a sheepish chuckle, while she resumed her writing. "Why don't you see my dad for that?"

Travis shrugged. "I couldn't find him."

"So...why don't you see Alice for that?"

"Can't seem to find her either."

"Lilly fixed up my daddy's leg pretty—"

"Can't find her either."

Beth rolled her eyes as she sat up on her bed, with a faint smile. "C'mon in, then."

Travis stumbled towards her bed and dropped on the mattress. Beth reached down below the bunk-bed and pulled out a first aid kit. He followed the gestures of her slender hands with his gaze – she plopped the kit on the lap and opened it up, taking out a bottle of disinfectant, cotton and a roll of gauze. She dipped the liquid into the cotton. Travis stretched his hand out to her and she grabbed his forearm, raising it at chest height and swabbing the wound with the cotton. Travis winced and let out a sharp hiss, his eyes closing.

"Ah, bitch!" Travis sissed a breath in and looked at Beth, who was staring at him with a reprehensive gaze. "No, I didn't mean that—like—I didn't call you a—"

"I know." Beth said, a chuckle bursting from her lips as her gaze thawed and returned to his wound. "How'd you get hurt?"

"Everything was going smooth until I started to dick around a little too much." Travis said, his voice lowered in pitch. "Got trapped beneath a shelf, cut myself on broken glass. Heh. I'm alive, that's all that matters. Live to fight another day."

Beth nodded. She began humming a tune as she slowly and gently rubbed the wet cotton on the wound. She tried not to apply too much force or be too harsh. The way that the light from her candle illuminated the winces of lethargy and pain on his visage indicated that he didn't have a good day. She didn't want to make it harder for him. Travis' heart beat harder from the sting on his arm, and the heavy silence that dawned upon them. The atmosphere between him and the girl had thickened, making him calculate his breaths as if oxygen was limited and rendered his muscles stiff and immobile. As if he feared that if he moved, his muscles would make him hug her or something.

He stared at her face for a long moment, as if he was caught in a trance. She was always looking serious and hardboiled, which made him smile. Even when she laughed, it was never over-the-top or exaggerated. Just a mesured, low giggle. Always controlling her expressions, as if she had forgotten how to show her emotions at times. But he understood that. Why she was like that.

His eyes began wafting around her private quarters, which lightened the air in the room. She had been busy in the past month decorating. There was a mirror on the wall, with Chinese characters engraved in the wooden frame. She had a desk even. He began reading the post-its that were glued to the wall, which were often decorated with smiley faces. _Don't forget to inventory rations tomorrow! Hey, there, __cowgirl__ – lookin' fine this morning! __Song lyrics – I'm a little bit restless / a message on my ear / I'm pulling on my jeans and waiting for you to get here. _Travis sketched a smile that those sprinkles of personality that brought the room to life. A smile that alleviated the pain.

There was also a sign hanging on the wall, with a sentence written in old-fashioned letters. _30 DAYS WITHOUT AN ACCIDENT. _The numbers were on tablets, fixated on rungs, that could be replaced. He stretched out his free hand and removed the zero from the rung. He grabbed the number one from the desk and put it in the zero's place.

_31 DAYS WITHOUT AN ACCIDENT._

* * *

Rick and Lee leaned against the fence of the pig pen, their hairs bristled by the cold. Rick beamed a flashlight towards the dead pig, the beam glowing bright in the midst of the moonlight.

"Violet, right there, looks like she kicked the bucket. I don't know why."

"Think she might've been sick?" Lee asked while caressing his chin.

"Who knows? We should have Hershel look at her."

Lee nodded. Rick switched off the flashlight and the two men walked back up the driveway. Lee let out a sigh, as he remembered the past hours. "We came so fucking close out there...Travis almost died, and we weren't too far from dying too. It's been so long since we've had to risk our lives like this...I'm not sure I would've handled someone else dying."

"Death's always gonna be there, Lee. You can't get soft."

"I know. I'll try not to." Lee said. "Y'know, we came across a bunch of dead people out there. 'Bout a dozen of them. All of them were shot in the head, by a riverbank, but they weren't walkers. Freaked me out. We don't think it was the Governor. I just hope that whoever killed them isn't coming our way."

Rick pondered over his words. The possibility of there being more bloodthirsty factions out there made him tense. Things had been peaceful at the prison for so long, and an attack could take them by surprise. But how did they know it wasn't the Governor? He opened his mouth, the question on the tip of his tongue.

"Hey, you there!"

Lee and Rick halted dead on their tracks, their spines solidifying to ice. The unknown voice called them from behind, coming from someone who was shaking the front gate back and forth to get their attention. Rick and Lee exchanged a fast glance before springing around. There were seven silhouettes standing by the gate. Lee whipped out his handgun and nodded at Rick. The two paced towards the gate and Rick lit up his flashlight, beaming it towards the shadows.

There was a guy with a machete holstered on his back. An older man with cropped hair and a thin beard. A tall, lanky guy with blue eyes and a baseball cap. A Hispanic man with a girl hiding behind his legs. A chunky black guy with glasses. And a caramel pregnant woman.

"You, uh...got room in there for a few people?" The older man asked.

Lee and Rick remained silent. Their incredulous, frowning gazes met one another, before they shifted back towards the seven strangers.


	74. Trust

**The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye**

**VOLUME|SEASON|EPISODE 4 – WHAT WE BECOME**

**CHAPTER 74 - TRUST**

* * *

**Guest: "****Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the cabin group hell yeah great chapter as always . I'm interested where this goes. Keep up the good work****"**

**Answer:**** Thanks for the kind words! They're always appreciated! I'm glad that the cabin group's appearance had the effect I was going for.**

**Guest: "[...] ****I know Clem is 9 but what about Carl and Sophia? I know in the show Carl is 14 now as would be Sophia if they didn't kill her off, but that is why I am asking just so I know****"**

**Answer: I often keep ages somewhat loose, so that I can bend the rules a bit if the plots demands so xD But both Carl and Sophia should be 10 about now. Last time Carl's age was mentioned was in Chapter 64, and I wrote that he should be nearing his tenth birthday. So we'll go with 10 for the two of them. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Guest: "****yay i get to see rebecca die again****"**

**Answer: Already looking forward to characters' deaths? xD**

**Vincent D'Andrea: "****Will Carvers group be the equivalent of the Hunters/Termites?****"**

**Answer: Nice name, m'sir. And I will not reveal any spoilers.**

**Watchmen1985: "****can everybody please stop saying ship lee and rick rick has to get with andrea and lee will probably get with molly don't get me wrong im not a judgmental person but him and rick are brothers that would be weird****"**

**Answer: I love how you just assume with such certainty that Rick will end up with Andrea and Lee will end up with Molly xD Just remember that shit changes quite often in this story. I didn't know so many people were shipping Lee x Molly. We'll have to see if that comes to fruition or not. I think that RiLee shippers (pretty much looking at you, Carl Bellic xD) don't want them to be together on a romantic level, they just appreciate the brotherly bond between the two. Hell, I have no issue with this ship, means I've done a good job at establishing a strong bond between the two!**

_**Deadmantellgoodtales:**_** "****So I'm back with my PM on, sorry. And i just want to say what an awesome chapter probably one of my favorites. Now I have a few requests XD. After the prison battle maybe leave these people alive, Rick Carl Carol Lee Kenny Omid beth Daryl bob(if you add him please do!) Ben and Travis CLEMINTINE maybe nick and christa and maybe kill Sophia so Carol can come full circle. The rest is up to you! Well I guess it all is but that's just who I'm favoring lol!****"**

**Answer: Your PM is still off xD You must've forgotten to save the edits you made to your settings. Now I'm always interested to hearing readers' suggestions, and it's interesting to know who you want to survive the prison massacre. Still, I already have all of the deaths planned for that chapter and I'm not changing a single one of them xD By the way, Bob has already been introduced in Chapter 65, but he still lives in Woodbury.**

**Guest: "****Hey. I'm really enjoying this story! I was wondering if anything would happen between lee and Molly?****"**

**Answer: I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Any kind of feedback is deeply appreciated! Like I said, NO spoilers. So you'll just have to read and see ;)**

**Watchmen1985 (again): "****when you get to alexandria are you going to do douglas monroe as the leader or deanna monroe as the leader or are you going to do both with douglas and deanna as brother and sister hes the leader while she is his second in command that would be a good twist to this story****"**

**Answer: NO spoilers. But to be honest, I haven't even planned that far ahead. I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. I only have my shit planned for the following chapters, and everything beyond that is just plot points and it's just a matter of connecting them. But yeah, I'll definitely keep this in mind for when Alexandria shows up. Thanks for the food-for-thought!**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: A big, BIG apology for the delay on this one. It's just, life gets in the way, you feel me? Anywho, here it is, let's not stall any more than needed. Just wanted to let you know that I split this chapter in two, in order to get it out faster, so please forgive me. And I've also**** started logging this story's progression in my profile, so if you ever wonder when the next chapter's coming out, then just check my profile to see how much I've written and how close it's coming to a release date. I might also put up the titles of future chapters, as little teasers to feed your imagination.**

* * *

Coming across strangers never became an easy thing for Rick. On the off-chance that they weren't immediately hostile, there was always the chance of them lying through their teeth, hiding their true intentions. After all, everyone that was still alive after so long had become a good liar. An essential survival skill. Even after opening their gates to a few strangers the past weeks, force of habit made the sheriff scan the weapons that the group of seven was carrying, with a tense frown. Through the chainlink, he distinguished two rifles held by the older man and the guy with the hat, and they most likely had a few knives and sidearms tucked in their belts. But he'd have to get closer to make sure, considering the lack of light to help their eyesight.

Lee latently held his handgun in his grip, his eyes riveted to the pregnant woman. The two remained on the same spot for a long moment, eyeing the group that returned with a pleading stare. They could have been bad people, but the fact that they had a seemingly nine months pregnant lady overruled that theory in Lee's mind. There were a lot of people he would be suspicious of and on whom he'd keep a sharp eye, but not a freaking pregnant woman in the end of the world. His instincts of suspicion only went so far.

"Let's bring 'em in before any walkers show up." Lee whispered to Rick.

Rick glanced at the stomach of the pregnant lady, twisting his lips. "Yeah..."

Rick and Lee jogged towards the entryway and pulled open the inner gate. Rick closed it behind them, receiving a glance from Lee. The one-armed man understood what his friend intended to do – allow them into the corridor between the two fences, before letting them inside the actual prison. The council would have to vote for those people to stay, but Lee doubted that they would deny them. Especially the woman. But still, they had established rules and protocols, and they needed to be committed to.

The older man glanced around as growls began surrounding them, the walkers mere silhouettes in the falling sun's feeble light. But the decaying humans with torn clothes simply merged into the spike barriers that surrounded the front gates, the sharpened logs traversing their stomachs, yet causing a total nonchalance in the persistent zombies. The fat guy let out a grunt of disgust as he and the woman beside him looked away from the walkers that impaled themselves. Rick took his key and unlocked the chain on the outer gate, pulling it aside while Lee kept his eyes on the strangers, still holding his pistol. _I ought'a keep my guard up nonetheless__._

The older man flashed the two of them a thankful nod, before rushing inside with the rest of his group. The man with the ball cap raised his rifle at a pair of walkers that stumbled around the spikes and shuffled their way to the entrance, but Rick quickly shut the gate and locked it again, his eyes locked on the strangers. They looked spooked, non-hostile. But Clara was just like that when he first met her, too.

"We're, uh, grateful for that." The older man said, releasing a cheerful sigh with his arms akimbo. "Name's Pete. That's Luke, Carlos, Sarah, Alvin, Rebecca, and my nephew Nick."

Lee remained silent for a moment, eyeing the people that Pete enumerated. "Lee. This is Rick."

Rick looked past his shoulder, fixating his look on the easternmost tower. He could just barely make three silhouettes standing there, camouflaged by the night. The third shadow was Eddie's, who was aiming his rifle in their direction. Rick extended his hand towards him, with his fingers stretched out. From that distance, Eddie seemed to lower his rifle. The sheriff turned back toward the strangers.

"Look, I know you don't know us, but...you're in our house, now. You wanna stay any longer, you gotta put down your guns." Rick said, pointing his finger towards the rifles that Pete and his nephew were carrying.

"Should we really do that?" Nick asked with a brusque tone, his stiff frown set upon Pete. "We just met these people."

"They haven't shot us down right when they could'a, so I'll take that as a sign of good faith." Pete said, kneeling down and setting down his rifle with care. He erected himself and folded his arms, positing his eyes on Nick. "Put it down, son."

Nick remained stoical for a few seconds, before sighing. "Whatever you say, Uncle Pete."

He dropped the rifle on the gravel, that crunched with the impact. Pete sprang his glare at Nick. "Don't just drop it, boy! For all you know, that thing could go off."

Nick stammered an annoyed sigh, before crossing his arms and averting his uncle's glare. He knew damn well that there was a slim chance of a gun actually going off when dropped, but his uncle always pestered him with gun safety and how he should treat a weapon with respect, even if it's not loaded. Lee and Rick exchanged a misfit glance, groping the tension between the two. Luke unsheathed his machete and the Glock on his hip holster and set them down. Alvin and Carlos set down a knife and a pistol, respectively, straightening back up after putting down everything. Rick nodded at them.

"You sure I won't need to frisk you for anything else?" Rick asked.

"That's all we've got." Carlos said, his voice articulated by a Spanish accent.

"How'd you find us?" Rick inquired with a stern tone. "You just stumbled upon us? No one in their right mind walks around the forest at night."

"No, we found this place a couple of days ago." Carlos said. "We weren't sure of what kind of people you were, so we didn't make contact immediately."

"We watched you people for a while." Pete said. "You didn't look like bandits or anything. And we need somewhere to go."

Lee stretched out his lips, peeking towards the girl with glasses, Sarah. She met his glance, and ducked behind her father's legs. Lee briefly smiled, reminded of Clementine who did the same thing whenever they met new people. But not anymore. He looked up, being met with a glare from Carlos, as if he had stepped out of line just by glancing at the girl. Lee quickly turned towards Rebecca, who was slightly hunched over, caressing the burden on her belly while hisses slipped between her teeth.

"Aw, crap."

Alvin looked towards her, putting a hand on her back. "Somethin' wrong, Bec?"

"Well, yeah!" Rebecca spat with a hiss. "All this hikin' we been doin' ain't exactly doin' me any good."

Alvin turned towards Rick. "You guys takin' in people, right?"

Rick hesitated to answer, making his friend meet his gaze. Lee picked up on the sign he transmitted – Rick wanted him to answer the question for him. "We are." Lee said. "But we have a council running this place. I'm in it, along with Rick, and three other people. We need to run this by 'em, get everyone's approval."

"Look, we've been out there for too long." Luke said, with a Southern accent. "We can barely handle the lurkers, with the way Rebecca is an' all. We need someplace safe to stay. We can help, we know how to hunt—" Luke glanced towards the yard, where the crops were. "Hell, I even have a minor in Agriculture if you're needin' farmers—"

"We understand." Rick raised a hand. "But we need to run this by the others, like we said."

"You aren't the first people we've taken in." Lee interjected. "Don't worry, this will go smoothly. And we aren't going to kick you out, if you have a pregnant woman with you. We'll take you inside, and see what the council says."

* * *

A candle lit up the five survivors sitting around a table in the library, their visages baggy after being pulled away from their slumber with news of new people arriving. Glenn balled a fist in front of his mouth as he yawned. Hershel stared outside through the windowed door, through which he saw the group of seven awaiting their decision, along with Dale who kept an eye on them. Daryl rubbed his lips in contemplation. Rick just tapped his fingers against the table, and while the others exchanged their back-and-forth about which tasks the newcomers could execute and other details, he remained silent. His eyes deadlocked on the table's surface, his brain abstracted from the discussion surrounding him.

He used to be on the frontlines of every decision made in the group, but after they had returned from Woodbury and the council was put into place, he became its most passive member. When it came to voting, he just agreed with what the others said. He didn't want to make any decisions anymore. At times, there was an itch in his soul that made him consider giving up his seat in the council and let someone else take over. Dedicate himself full-time to the farming, the thing that had brought serenity to his mind. His choices had brought sorrow to the group too many times.

"Guess we're lettin' 'em in, then." Daryl said.

"None of them look deranged." Lee said. "And they have a pregnant woman with them. I think the decision's clear, right?"

"That woman's eight or nine months in, we can't send them back out." Glenn said. "There really isn't a reason to."

"You think she gon' deliver soon?" Daryl said, looking at Hershel.

"Looks like it." Hershel nodded. "Let's let 'em in. We've got plenty of room and we can always use extra hands. Alice and I have enough supplies and preparation to deliver her baby. The experience will help us prepare even better for when Christa's baby comes around."

The conversation reached silence, after everything had been said and the verdict had become implicit among the council members. Rick glanced at his watch with a sigh, deciding to speak up for the first time in that meeting.

"It's late, we should get some sleep. We'll put them in the tombs, ain't got no more space in our cell block. We'll sleep out the night, and we'll get to know them in the morning."

* * *

The grandiose of the prison was even more jaw-dropping in the daylight and upclose. The yard seemed vast, the crops and vines lining its fields sprouting produce and glinting from the morning dew. There was even an enclosure with baby piglets - only four of them, but still. Pete and Luke had a wide grin on their lips while Dale accompanied him, Nick and Pete around the corridor of the prison, showing them their defenses on the fenceline. Nick observed the marvels alongside them, but just barely managed to force an occasional, weak smile.

Dale simpered at their constant awe, leading them towards the center of the fences, where the walkers had piled up overnight. The rattling of the chainlink and the aggressive gargles tarnished their smiles and made their eyes turn towards the lurkers. Luke grimaced as they walked past a lurker whose milky gaze remained riveted to him, its slender paws scratching the fence like a hungry canine. But it couldn't reach him. Luke just moved past him. Huh. That certainly was a feeling he'd have to get used to. Ignoring the lurkers instead of taking them out directly. They passed by a crew of four people who had aprons around their necks as they thrust crowbars and sharpened utensils between the ligaments of the fence, screwing into the eye sockets of the lurkers pushing against the fence.

"Y'all just take 'em out through the fence?" Pete nodded while stretching his lips downwards. "Gotta say, that's smart."

"Saves up on the ammo, no?" Luke said.

"Yeah, we try not to use bullets too much." Dale said.

"Does that mean nobody's armed 'round here?"

"No, we are. Everybody keeps a sidearm on them, in case something goes bad. In a few days, you'll have your weapons, too."

Pete glanced at the blonde woman that stood atop the frontal watchtower. "You keep a sniper up there?"

"We always keep someone with a rifle up there." Dale said. "But that's all. We never use our guns inside the fences."

"That's good. That way, Nick won't have to do any shootin' any time soon." Pete chuckled. "Thank God for that."

Nick rolled his eyes with a fatigued sigh, halting on his tracks brusquely. "Will you ever stop saying shit like that?"

Pete narrowed his frown and stopped too, glaring at his nephew. "When you stop shootin' like a headless chicken, maybe I will."

"Guys, don't linger around or they'll start to push harder into the fence." Dale said with his eyes turned towards the walkers, their growls blaring just next to their ears. "We don't wanna rile them up."

Nick groaned. "Look, old man, we've been out there! We know how these things think. Not everyone's a dumbass, you know."

Dale grinned. "Just you, right?"

Luke and Pete stifled a chuckle, covering their mouths with their fists. Nick grinded his teeth, eyeing both of them before beaming his glare at Dale once more. "Fuck you."

"Now, Nick, don't get too ruffled." Pete said with a half-smile. "You deserved what you got."

"Whatever."

* * *

Alice leaned against the counter in the infirmary. Carlos was on his knee, his ear butted against a fetal stethoscope that was placed against Rebecca's stomach. Alice had her notebook opened on the counter, with a few notes that she had jotted down from Carlos' remarks. Having a real doctor around relieved some weight off her shoulders, since there was only so much she could learn from the limited assortment of medical textbooks in the prison.

Alvin held his wife's hand, who sat on a bed and stared down at the doctor who performed his diagnosis. Sarah was ambling around the room, her eyelids widened at the immaculate nursery. Carlos straightened his head, quickly glancing at his daughter. It was an habit he had developed – make sure she was around and safe every minute or so with a fast peek. There was nothing wrong. She was delighted with the prison, ever since they had found it. Her shift of mood was pleasant, but it didn't bring a smile to his lips just yet. He wasn't sure if that prison was safe. Communities may look pleasant at first, but that can always change. He knew that all too well.

Carlos turned back to his task. "You should start to pick up signs in the last few months of gestation."

Alice scribbled on her notebook. "Hmm, like last three, two months?"

"Maybe a little later. I'm not sure of the precise time. This wasn't my specialty." Carlos turned towards her. "You weren't a medical professional before?"

Alice chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm barely a medical trainee."

"So, you picked up something?" Alvin asked the doctor, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Seems regular." Carlos shrugged, setting down the device that he held. "There is not much we can do, all things considered. But we'll know soon enough if everything is fine."

"This place is so cool! Where did all this stuff come from?" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes flickering through the colored pill boxes on a cupboard.

"Well, uh, most of it was already here." Alice said with a sheepish chuckle, the girl's overjoy somewhat unnerving to her.

"Honey, settle down." Carlos said.

Sarah ignored her father's words, her back turned to him as she continued to inspect the infirmary. She looked towards the nurse. "Hey, I'm Sarah! What's your name?"

Alice folded her arms. "It's Alice, sweetheart."

"Are you, like, the nurse here?" Sarah asked, pointing her finger towards her white coat. "You even have a lab coat and all!"

"Yep, that's me. I'm the nurse." Alice shrugged with a smile. "I guess."

"Wow. Cool." Sarah inspected the woman from head to toe, until her eyes followed the ginger braid of hair that slumped down her shoulder. "You have really pretty hair."

"Oh, uh...thanks, sweetie."

Carlos flashed a glance at his daughter, before looking back at the nurse, who shrugged with a crooked simper.

* * *

The pale sunlight at dawn agressed Axel's eyes, making him rub them compulsively. He hadn't gotten much sleep, having kept an eye on the fences with Vince and Eddie the previous night, and he was sure that he looked like shit. His elbows were perched against one of the tables in the courtyard, his mind barely paying any attention to the breakfast in front of him. He turned towards Carol, who sat across him with Sophia next to him, flashing her a smile and her returning it. The freshest topic of the day came to mind.

"Ya heard 'bout them new people comin' in yesterday?"

"Yeah. Seven of them, it appears. That makes, what? Forty of us?" Carol exhaled. "Never thought we'd be so many."

"I'm just glad we takin' people in and we ain't gotta fight 'em no more, you follow me?"

Carol nodded. "I follow you. I guess we have to stop killing at one point."

"I s'ppose I was lucky that I never had to start."

"That makes two of us. Most of us have already had to kill someone...but thankfully that's not something I've had to do. It's scary to just think about doing it. But I guess if I had to do it..."

Carol left her sentence hanging, her stare fixating into a void for a brief moment. Axel nodded, before looking at the morning sun. It began to burn scarlet, bathing the sky in an early tangerine. "Gotta say, the sunshine's lookin' awful romantic right now.".

Carol grinned, gently nodding her head towards Sophia as a reminder that her daughter was around. "Please, spare me."

* * *

Dale dropped on his bed, steaming out a sigh while he massaged his worn out spine. He tried to straighten his back, resulting in an acute pain that pierced his midsection. _Maybe I am getting old. _Or maybe the prison was softening him too much. He cleared his mind, only for it to be disturbed by two giggles coming from outside – one that was quite familiar too him and a second one that was deep and baritone. His lips twisted in a sneer. Tyreese and Andrea strolled in front of his cell, the latter beckoning goodbye at him and walking into her and Dale's cell. Andrea turned around, halting on her footsteps as she noticed his presence in the room.

"Oh, hey, old man." She said, clearing her throat. "Didn't expect to find you here. Thought you were showing the new guys around."

Dale didn't say anything, his head lowered and his fisher's hat hiding his gaze. Andrea frowned. "What is it, Dale? Something wrong?"

Dale raised his head, his eyebrows accentuated and his gaze mellowed. "You can sleep with someone else if you want."

Andrea's jaw dropped as she withdrew her head, her chin folding and her eyes bulging. "What?!"

"We don't have to be together, if this is getting old for you, being with me." Dale spoke in a groggy tone, keeping his head down as if to hide himself. "I understand. Girl your age, I can't please ya the way you'd like. Things don't work like they used to. But if you wanna have sex with someone else...I would be fine with it. I wouldn't be mad."

Andrea remained stoic for a while, until a chuckle burst from her lips and she dashed towards the old man, enfolding him in an asphyxiating hug.

"Oh, stop it, you wonderful, handsome, perfect, insecure old man." Andrea said, caressing the man with her arms around him. Dale kept his austere gaze fixated on the ground, as he alleviated a heavy sigh off his chest. He truly was the luckiest old man in the world. "I love you."

* * *

"Uno."

Billy set down the last card he held on the disorganized pile of cards standing before him. Beth groaned and tossed her dozen of cards onto the mattress they sat on, her annoyed groan intensifying her brother's smug grin. Billy scooped in the cards into a straight pile once more, while his sister folded her arms, a fierce frown of pure puzzlement wringing her eyebrows. She pinched her nose bridge – her brain hurt at how her dimwit of a brother seemed to have such luck at the colorful card game.

"Wanna go again?" Billy asked, the silly grin permanently etched into his lips.

"I—I just know you're cheatin'." Beth said, shaking her head and letting her arms slump against her knees. "You're too dumb to win at anythin', let alone three times in a row."

"Can't ya just admit that I'll always beat you at Uno?" Billy shuffled the deck in his hand.

Beth rolled her eyes. "I remember beatin' you at basketball a lott'a times."

"Hmph." Billy snorted, being left tongue-tied as he set the deck of cards on his sister's desk, letting out a long sigh. He was hoping to get a smile out of his sister, but oh well. Pissing her off was just as amusing, especially due to her constant seriousness. He stretched out and laid down on his sister's mattress.

Beth punched him the shoulder. "I didn't say you could lay down on my bed. You'll stink up the sheets."

"Yeah, well, too bad. Dad's been ridin' my back everyday with the work on the crops and I'm beat. Shitty part is, it ain't like back at home. We barely have any farmin' equipment around to help. It'd help if we had more people on the crops, but everyone's already busy. Maybe I could ask Ben, or Travis."

Beth sketched a simper at the last word he said, her gaze sinking to the ground. Billy glanced at his sister, imitating her smirk. There was a brief spark in her eyes that were focused on a void in the ground, caught up on some kind of reverie.

"Did I say something funny?"

Beth rapidly darted her gaze towards her brother, her smile evaporating and her voice turning hostile. "No."

Billy nodded with a shit-eating grin and a sarcastic grunt of assent. "Yeah, right, I see what it is..."

* * *

_Hey, there, little worm._

Clementine had her eyes directed towards the miniscule bug that writhed across a grass straw, an abeyant smile adorning her lips. She was curled into a ball, sitting on the grass, her mind taken away from the gnarling coming from the chainlink fence and the presence of her two friends next to her. She loved paying attention to the little things in life, like the tiny bugs living everywhere, even though the world around her sometimes impeded her from doing so. She used to daydream constantly about the birds nested in the branches around her treehouse or the butterflies that winged arond her backyard.

She wondered if the small worm knew how the world had changed. Did it know that humans could very well be on the verge of extinction because of those monsters? No, that was silly. Worms certainly couldn't know that. They live in the dirt and always get stomped by people or walkers, so they probably thought the zombies were normal people as well. _Kinda like Lizzie. _But she wondered if other animals, like deers or birds, realized that something had changed in their environnement. Perhaps they were happier with fewer humans around. Clementine remembered when she was young and was shocked when she learned that the meat on her plate came from an animal. At first, she didn't understand why people would hurt animals just to eat them. But after she and her friends faced hunger many times, she now understood.

Clementine reached down for the worm. She neared her fingers against the grass straw. The worm writhed its way into her index finger. She giggled at the ticklish feeling that made her cringe her neck. She raised her head, an idea popping into her head. She looked to her side. Carl and Sophia had their eyes drawn to the open pages of a comic book plopped on their laps, their hands interlaced over the pages. Clementine silently giggled before she yanked Carl's hat off and smeared the worm on his hair, before putting his hat back down. Carl knocked his hat off his head and ran his hands down his hair, brushing the insect off, his lips shrinking.

"Ew!"

Clementine covered her mouth as her chest bounced with giggles, with Sophia bursting in laughter once she pieced together what she did. Carl grimaced austerely as he jerked his hat back onto his head. "Real funny."

"I thought it was funny." Sophia said, rubbing his shoulder as if to console him.

"I don't see the joke!" Carl said in a raised tone.

"You don't need to get mad." Clementine said with a faint smile. "I used to put bugs in Duck's pillow all the time. He didn't get angry like you."

The mention of their long gone friend brought back memories for the three children. That time he rambled about some kind of dinosaur that fired laser beams, or how he went around the farm one time, looking for 'clues' and pretending to be Dick Grayson. But with the memories came the dismay of the boy's absence, which attenuated Clementine's smile, making her gaze sink to the grass.

"I miss Duck."

Carl sighed. "Me too. But he was weak. Kenny should've prepared him better." Carl and Sophia looked back down towards their comic book, turning to the next page.

Clementine got a sour taste on her tongue at the thought of labeling Duck as 'weak'. But it was true. He was a good boy, but not a survivor. And she couldn't imagine him handling with half of the bad things that were thrown at them after the farm.

* * *

The hunting trips taken by the two estranged brothers had become strolls through the forest more than anything. Daryl and Merle occasionally fired a glance around them, but they mostly kept their eyes sunken to the dead leaves on the ground, where they shuffled one foot after the other. The deer from the previous day was just pure luck. After a month spent in those backwoods, the fauna had pruned. Maybe the wild animals realized that region was a predator area, or maybe the nearby walkers clinging on the prison fences shooed them away. Merle marched in front of his brother, leading the way with his finger resting on the trigger guard of his assault rifle. Daryl sighed, the ennui and uneventfulness grinding his brain.

"Seems like the game is thinnin' out 'round here."

"Son, it's not like we dropped a nuke on this forest. There's still a deer or a fox out there, waitin' to be caught." Merle responded, his vague statement eliciting little conviction in his younger brother.

"I'm just sayin', we brought back a lot of 'em before. Animals need to breed, I guess. They can't exactly do that with us killin' every one of 'em."

Merle rolled his eyes, his gaze positing upon the sky. "Does it even matter? Even if we bagged a goddamned Bigfoot out here, it'd barely fill our stomachs. Not with us splittin' the meat with everyone. "

"Whatever we hunt out here, it belongs t'everyone. Just like whatever Rick and the others farm on them crops belongs t'everyone. Anythin' that's still left from the cafeteria stock belongs t'everyone."

Merle snorted, hoisting the left corner of his lips. "Sure, yeah. A man can't even enjoy a meal without worryin' about his neighbors takin' a piece of it. And that'll just get worse, the way Offcer Friendly's lettin' people in. You see that group 'a seven they let in? Pfft. Two pregnant ladies back home, they're bound to eat up all our rations."

"You worried 'bout 'em eatin' all your venison?" Daryl exhausted a guttural chuckle.

Merle vented out a charged sigh, as he kept trekking through the woods and avoided looking at his brother. "Y'know damn well this ain't my kind of life. Ya remember when it used to be just me and you? Wasn't fancy, but we turned a'right. But then this happened, we got split and we found each other. And you weren't the same anymore, were ya? Ya got a..._family_, now. But I ain't in it."

Daryl shook his head, before shrugging. "That ain't true. But...things changed, bro. You should too."

* * *

The labyrinth of hallways within the bowels of the prison were even more confusing after twilight. Pete didn't have the layout of the prison engraved in his mind yet, so when he headed back to his group's cell block, he ended up in the tunnels and completely lost. He zigzagged his way back, with little idea of what way to take, but luckily he stumbled upon that old man with the fisher's hat he met that morning – Dale, if his memory didn't fail him. The latter led him the way, and two men walked in silence towards the tombs. Pete scratched his head, remembering his nephew's outburst from earlier.

"You'll have to excuse my boy. He has a short fuse at times." Pete said with a monotonous tone, as if it wasn't the first time he was saying those words. "He might be ill-tempered, but he means well. He's had his losses."

Dale shrugged. "Meh, it's okay, really. I've known kids worse than him. Boys will be boys."

Pete sighed. "Yeah, maybe, but I want him to be a man."

"You're his uncle, right? Whatever happened to his father? Walkers get him?"

"Walkers?" Pete asked inquisitively, bending his eyebrows. He untensed his visage. "Oh, the lurkers, you mean. No, that wasn't it. His dad was never around, and was a real son of a bitch when he was. I always tried to look out for him, and that ain't changed so far. He's stubborn, true, but he's still my boy."

"He's got you, so it can't be too bad."

Pete nodded, stretching out his lips. He tried to find another topic, perhaps one that would let him get to know the man walking beside him. Knowing the people that one has to survive alongside with is essential, and words always allow to bond. He turned towards Dale, lining a faint simper.

"I hope you don't mind me pryin', but I gotta ask...what is there between you and that blonde lady?"

"Oh, Andrea?" Dale chuckled. "Well, she's my, uh...girlfriend? I guess you'd call it that."

"Girlfriend?"

"Yeah, I know. Sounds weird to name her like that. The word sounds too...youthful. We share the same bed but we're not married. So, yeah, I guess...girlfriend."

"Hmph. I'll be honest, it would've been strange t'me to see something like that before, y'know, the age difference an' all." Pete said. "My sister had an older husband, and at first I gave her some lecturing for it. But nowadays, in this fucked up world...I'm just glad you two have something goin' for ya. That's all that matters."

* * *

Rebecca dropped on her mattress, alleviating a heavy breath off her chest. She kept her hands glued to her swollen belly at all times, as if she carried a porcelain vase between her palms. Alvin stood by her side, caressing her shoulder. She looked up at him, being greeted by his warm smile. She replicated with a chuckle, before she lowered her head and her smile quickly vanished. She wasn't sure of how she would handle herself if she didn't have him looking after for her. She'd probably be a mess. She needed him, but at the same time, her heart stung each time she met his warm gaze, as if she felt that she was a burden undeserving of him.

"Jesus. It feels like I've been marching all day." Rebecca said, hoping that conversation would dissipate her thoughts.

"Huh. Maybe ya lackin' nutrition." Alvin said, taking a pack of crackers from his pocket and stretching it out towards his wife. "Here, some nice lady at the cafeteria let me take this."

Rebecca stuttered a chuckle, keeping her gaze low. "Alvin, we ate, like, two meals today. We were eatin' bones 'fore we found this place. You try'na get me fatter than I already am?"

Alvin smiled, sliding the crackers back into his trousers. "Well, I'm just makin' sure you're okay." Alvin shoved his hands into his coat pockets, before glancing around his cell. "This place, man...can't find a reason to complain. Two meals in a day, huh!"

* * *

Nick rubbed his eyes vigorously, making him see white flashes in the darkness, while he was laying out on his bed. He sank into the mattress, savoring the comfort of it. He had a roof over his head, food in his belly and he didn't have to sleep with one eye closed, but his blood still ran bitter in his veins. He let out a sigh, stiffening his brow. Deep down, he felt like he needed to regulate his temper and stop hating the world all the time, but that anger and frustration never went away. And constantly being reminded by his uncle and his friends with sideway glances that something was wrong with him, it just pissed him off even more.

He heard someone walk into his room. He kept his eyes closed, deeming it was his childhood friend. Nick felt the bunkbed vibrate – his friend was climbing onto the top bed. He groaned, snapping his eyes open just as Luke dropped on his mattress, making the two-story structure rattle. Nick exhausted another breath and squeezed his nose bridge.

"Y'know, Luke, there are other cells. We don't need to be crowded in the same one."

"The other ones smell like someone died in 'em." Luke said while twisting his lips.

"Someone probably _did_ die in them." Nick grunted, his narrowed glare fixated on the bunkbed's roof above him. "This entire shithole reeks of death."

"Stop bein' grim 'bout everythin'. We got our prayers answered with this place, we ain't got no reason to act pissy."

Nick shrugged, shifting his devoid gaze towards the wall. "Whatever."

"Fine, sulk all ya want." Luke said as he dropped back on his bed, crossing his fingers behind his head. He let out a chuckle. "Y'know what this reminds of?"

"When we lived in that dump in Tennessee?" Nick deadpanned, receiving a grunt of approval from Luke. "It was awful."

"Ah, c'mon, it was fun."

"Would'a been more fun if we hadn't wound up there because of your fucking 'business' ideas."

"Hmph, yeah." Luke said, barely forcing a chuckle out of his lips. The subject of the misadventures he had gone through with his friend used to be the source of laughter and joyful nostalgia, but this time, there was hostility in Nick's voice, weighing down Luke's visage. The cell block door creaked open. Luke sprang onto a sitting position, before hopping off his bed. He glanced outside. "That's Pete. Get up, he wants to talk t'everyone."

Luke stepped out of the cell, ignoring his friend's sighs that began to grow repetitive to him. Pete glanced past his shoulder, making sure that Dale was gone. He walked towards the perch of the block, where he met up with Luke, Nick, Carlos and Alvin. The doctor glanced toward his cell, verifying that Sarah hadn't come out of bed.

"So, wha'dya think of this place?" Luke asked. "Looks pretty good t'me."

"Hey, we been here a day, and I'm already lovin' this place." Alvin said. "Took me months to get settled in that cabin."

"Being in an another community does not please me." Carlos said. "But they've got supplies that could be useful for Rebecca."

"So we're stayin'?" Nick said. "You sure we shouldn't just keep movin'?"

"With Rebecca the way she is?" Pete said. "We have to hunker down, she can't keep up with all the walkin' we been doin' the past week."

"Well, if we're stayin', that brings up the question...should we tell 'em 'bout Carver?" Luke said.

"There's nothing to tell 'em." Nick quickly interjected. "It's been months since we've seen 'im."

"What about those bodies on the river, huh, Nick?" Luke said with hushed whispers. "What if Carver did that?"

"Maybe it wasn't him." Alvin said. "He ain't the only crazy asshole in the country."

"We're some distance apart from his community." Carlos said. "We should not assume it was him. And why do you think telling the truth is a viable option? These people could kick us out if they thought we represent a danger to them."

"Look, you might be right, but hiding secrets from these people doesn't seem like the best thing t'do." Pete said.

"What would you have us do? We cannot risk getting thrown out there again."

"Pete's got a point." Luke said. "But Carlos is right too. Maybe we ought'a wait fo' a while, see if we can trust these people and once we got some mutual trust, we can tell 'em."

Pete looked at his feet, before looking back up. "I don't like keeping secrets. But we'll have to for now. Once they give us our weapons back in a few days, we'll tell them."

* * *

_Time to get to work._

Rick dipped his hands into the water pooled within a barrel and splashed it onto his face. He shook his head while wiping away the dripping liquid from his beard, the breeze cooling his face and relieving the lethargy from his body. He rubbed his eyes and then blinked, adjusting to the light of a new dawn. He scanned the horizon for a while while leaning against the water container, examining the fence-clingers and the crops that were waiting for him.

"'Morning."

Rick glanced past his shoulder, towards the sound of Tyreese's voice. The bulky man walked towards another water barrel and splashed some water into his face as well. Rick nodded at him as a hello, before turning his eyes back to the gates.

"'Morning." Rick said. "Up already?"

"Karen was tossing all night." Tyreese said. "I wasn't getting much sleep."

Rick smiled. "How's things with her? Never would'a imagined the two 'a you together."

"Things are great, Rick. She's great, and she's always there for me. I'm real glad you brought her back from Woodbury."

"You been talkin' to Michonne lately?"

"N'ah, not really." Tyreese folded his arms. "I used to, y'know. I was worried about her after what happened with the Governor. I tried to be there for her. But then she...she just strayed away. I barely see her around. Heh. I barely see her talking to anyone. She seems to like you and Carl, though."

"She's always out on runs." Rick said. "Lookin' for supplies, places to scavenge...I've told her she doesn't need to go out so often, but...out there, it's her world. Not in here."

"If she doesn't like what we've built here, what place is there for her?"

Rick lowered his eyes, pondering over the rhetorical question. When it came to quality of life, that prison was its pinnacle, and now it was just a matter of Michonne making a breakthrough to find stability.

"Uh...Rick?"

Rick stiffened at the tone of preoccupation that took over Tyreese's voice. He rapidly looked up at the former football player, whose stare was directed to the front gates. Rick spun towards the entrance of the prison. There was a man standing before the gate, shaking it back and forth to get the two men's attention. Rick narrowed his eyes, discerning a coat with fur lining wrapped around the man's torso and a stubbly goatee texturizing his visage. And a revolver tucked in a waist holster.


End file.
